From 230a557488ae633a48490ffe258443666c9ae87f Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <25-011@sanignacio.pr> Date: Wed, 18 Aug 2021 15:07:40 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 01/50] Update Module1.md Ya hize la pregunta una --- Modules/Module1/Module1.md | 2 +- 1 file changed, 1 insertion(+), 1 deletion(-) diff --git a/Modules/Module1/Module1.md b/Modules/Module1/Module1.md index b62e0605d..973fd9553 100644 --- a/Modules/Module1/Module1.md +++ b/Modules/Module1/Module1.md @@ -197,7 +197,7 @@ You may update both simultaneously from Visual Studio by selecting. What is the difference between Git and GitHub? - - Answer: + - Answer: The difference is that Github uses Git in order to share the codes. What is the difference between a git commit and a git push? From e97c668c9ddc608e4cdcc70af5bc251a45cbaf67 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <25-011@sanignacio.pr> Date: Wed, 18 Aug 2021 15:12:11 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 02/50] Update Module1.md ya termine la segunda pregunta. --- Modules/Module1/Module1.md | 2 +- 1 file changed, 1 insertion(+), 1 deletion(-) diff --git a/Modules/Module1/Module1.md b/Modules/Module1/Module1.md index 973fd9553..d1744d760 100644 --- a/Modules/Module1/Module1.md +++ b/Modules/Module1/Module1.md @@ -201,7 +201,7 @@ What is the difference between Git and GitHub? What is the difference between a git commit and a git push? - - Answer: + - Answer: The difference is that commit is saving it and push is uploading it. What is the difference between a pull, and an upstream pull? From 62ee1713c015d00d5164cfeded2aa6c445e3575b Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <25-011@sanignacio.pr> Date: Wed, 18 Aug 2021 15:20:42 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 03/50] Update Module1.md ya termine todas las preguntas. --- Modules/Module1/Module1.md | 4 ++-- 1 file changed, 2 insertions(+), 2 deletions(-) diff --git a/Modules/Module1/Module1.md b/Modules/Module1/Module1.md index d1744d760..716db7334 100644 --- a/Modules/Module1/Module1.md +++ b/Modules/Module1/Module1.md @@ -205,11 +205,11 @@ What is the difference between a git commit and a git push? What is the difference between a pull, and an upstream pull? - - Answer: + - Answer: The difference between a pull and a upstream pull is that upstream pull is merging that one that you forked and pull is forking. What part of these instructions was unclear or incomplete? - - Answer: + - Answer: None I understand them. 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b/Modules/Module2/Module2.md index 491b9e2c1..771ea906d 100644 --- a/Modules/Module2/Module2.md +++ b/Modules/Module2/Module2.md @@ -131,23 +131,23 @@ Typing `python` *(or `python3`)* into the terminal will enter the Python console What is a benefit of using Markdown? https://www.markdownguide.org/getting-started/ - - Answer: + - Answer: Markdown is portable. Files containing Markdown-formatted text can be opened using virtually any application.It can also be used to create websites What does "cd" stand for? - - Answer: + - Answer: It stands for changing directory Did you get stuck at any point or become confused with your console? (yes/no) If so, what happened? How did you solve it? - - Answer: + - Answer: No Did you consider searching google for other commands to run? What did you try? - - Answer: + - Answer: I never considered. What would you like to program? - - Answer: + - Answer: I would like to program computers. Type down any class notes below this sentence: From 81b9253d1351e8bafb4a43990278c8e36d5e81b6 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Wed, 1 Sep 2021 15:04:54 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 06/50] Initicials --- Projects/ASCII-Initials.py | 9 +++++++++ Projects/CSI-Daniel-Cintron-ACSII-1..PNG | Bin 0 -> 67810 bytes 2 files changed, 9 insertions(+) create mode 100644 Projects/ASCII-Initials.py create mode 100644 Projects/CSI-Daniel-Cintron-ACSII-1..PNG diff --git a/Projects/ASCII-Initials.py b/Projects/ASCII-Initials.py new file mode 100644 index 000000000..ad84931af --- /dev/null +++ b/Projects/ASCII-Initials.py @@ -0,0 +1,9 @@ +print(""" +DDDDD EEEEE CCCCC M M +D D E C C M M M M +D D E C M M M M +D D EEEEE C M M M +D D E C M M +D D E C C M M +DDDDD EEEEE CCCCC M M +""") \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/Projects/CSI-Daniel-Cintron-ACSII-1..PNG b/Projects/CSI-Daniel-Cintron-ACSII-1..PNG new file mode 100644 index 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z|8%k3OYE~cZU1M7adC*T`=d$?R2u`UM>ur4h$4&Z`LzQ5x5LYiwQq>X>q5we9`i)r zVH|c#8pVqg{cY(g(xIs}Kj4^t!Jrd*P0hz)zV7Vkg^`{h0RKyEKG;i~l@B4!Ivb5j df1=Dp==NGOdF Date: Fri, 3 Sep 2021 14:52:44 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 07/50] Update Module3.md --- Modules/Module3/Module3.md | 10 +++++----- 1 file changed, 5 insertions(+), 5 deletions(-) diff --git a/Modules/Module3/Module3.md b/Modules/Module3/Module3.md index 44d718e32..3a419abca 100644 --- a/Modules/Module3/Module3.md +++ b/Modules/Module3/Module3.md @@ -96,24 +96,24 @@ print(type(age)) What is the difference between "42" and 42. - - Answer: + - Answer: first is a spring and the other is an intenger Define the boolean operators: >, <, ==, >=, <= - - Answer: + - Answer:>:grester than <: less than ==:equals >=: more or equal than <=:less or equal than How do you address an index in an list? Write a python code that assigns 34 to a new variable by accessing the value stored in: arr = [4, 3, -1, 4, 34] - - Answer: + - Answer:arr{4} What is the first index of a list? Why? - - Answer: + - Answer:0 Because pyhton starts with 0 Provide an original example of a null value. It must prove your understanding of the concept. - - Answer: + - Answer:If there is othing it is a null value. 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diff --git a/Modules/Module4/Module4.md b/Modules/Module4/Module4.md index 61e4a4961..bf36542c8 100644 --- a/Modules/Module4/Module4.md +++ b/Modules/Module4/Module4.md @@ -125,9 +125,7 @@ print(f"Or use the print directly {myNumber}") -# Class Discussion -## Answer the questions on the Markdown file located within your `Module4` directory (Module4.md)`(12pts)` - +!-- Welcome! These are your questions. --> + +
+ +## [Next Module ->](/../../tree/main/Modules/Module5/Module5.md) From acda49944559d34cf88948fb4c444d0e277d9f82 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Mon, 20 Sep 2021 15:10:53 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 10/50] Calculator --- Modules/Module4/Daniel Cintron-Calculator.py | 27 ++++++++++++++++++ Modules/Module4/Daniel-Cintron-Calculator.PNG | Bin 0 -> 33962 bytes 2 files changed, 27 insertions(+) create mode 100644 Modules/Module4/Daniel Cintron-Calculator.py create mode 100644 Modules/Module4/Daniel-Cintron-Calculator.PNG diff --git a/Modules/Module4/Daniel Cintron-Calculator.py b/Modules/Module4/Daniel Cintron-Calculator.py new file mode 100644 index 000000000..0db9061fc --- /dev/null +++ b/Modules/Module4/Daniel Cintron-Calculator.py @@ -0,0 +1,27 @@ +# print("Hello World") +# print(input("What is your name?: ")) +# myName = input () +# print("It is good to mmet you", myName) +# print("What is your age? :") +# myAge = input() +# print("You will be " + str(int(myAge)+5)+" in 5 years") +print("Rectangle Area Calculator") +print(""" +----------------------- +| | +| | +| | +| | +| | +----------------------- +""") +mywidth = int(input("What is the base or width of the square: ")) +myheight = int(input("What is the height of the figure: ")) +print("The Area of the rectangle is: ", mywidth * myheight) +print() +def AreaOfRectangle(width, height): + print(f"Area of the rectangle is {int(width) * int(height)}") +print("Width is 15 cm") +print("Height is 11 cm") +AreaOfRectangle(15, 11) + diff --git a/Modules/Module4/Daniel-Cintron-Calculator.PNG b/Modules/Module4/Daniel-Cintron-Calculator.PNG new file mode 100644 index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..6c9a5c1d7d8b1f6fc2089a1eef510cdfb38cddbf GIT binary patch literal 33962 zcmd?Q2~d++w>FBOwzOX>bZaZfl(undR1gIj1fq?KEeI%t8KOi*i3|am5|XHNi!wSf zPbxAcgoqmEB+?L~3`T?`5Fk+y0trcE2q6hc{+I6WoO}NI?>%)--Bb17x;Ir+HmUc0 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zRS~?LxZKOv`7he6t(%dw!Eoj^{>`Jf+2_Tz<9-9cepWJ&JY`&fexax6Hs?>{v8Ip@ z??2aJI6IGRY|l8EzBaw+OiJ6Nb**6-okaI)ryW`v1)~n|8xHX$Y Date: Thu, 23 Sep 2021 22:12:18 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 11/50] Ticketera --- Modules/Module3/Daniel-Cintron-Ticketera.py | 20 +++++++++++++++++++ Modules/Module4/Daniel-Cintron-Ticketera.PNG | Bin 0 -> 34636 bytes 2 files changed, 20 insertions(+) create mode 100644 Modules/Module3/Daniel-Cintron-Ticketera.py create mode 100644 Modules/Module4/Daniel-Cintron-Ticketera.PNG diff --git a/Modules/Module3/Daniel-Cintron-Ticketera.py b/Modules/Module3/Daniel-Cintron-Ticketera.py new file mode 100644 index 000000000..aea04bcab --- /dev/null +++ b/Modules/Module3/Daniel-Cintron-Ticketera.py @@ -0,0 +1,20 @@ +print("Miss World 2021") +print("The cost of each seat is as follow: Club Seat = $350, Nivel Principal = $350, Nivel Superior = $75") + +Club_Seat = int(input("How many tickets sold for Club Seat? =")) +Nivel_Principal = int(input("How many tickets sold for Nivel Principal=")) +Nivel_Superior = int(input("How many tickets sold for Nivel Superior=")) + +def SectionSales(Club_Seat, Nivel_Principal, Nivel_Superior): + print(f"The cost for Club Seat Tickets is: {int(Club_Seat) * 350}") + print(f"The cost for Nivel Principal Tickets is: {int(Nivel_Principal) * 350}") + print(f"The cost for Nivel Superior Tickets is: {int(Nivel_Superior) *75}") + print() +SectionSales(Club_Seat, Nivel_Principal, Nivel_Superior) +Sales_CS = Club_Seat * 350 +Sales_NP = Nivel_Principal * 350 +Sales_NS = Nivel_Superior * 75 +def TicketsTotal( Sales_CS, Sales_NP, Sales_NS): + print(f"The total of tickets sales is ${int(Sales_CS) + int(Sales_NP) + int(Sales_NS)}") +print() +TicketsTotal(Sales_CS, Sales_NP, Sales_NS) \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/Modules/Module4/Daniel-Cintron-Ticketera.PNG b/Modules/Module4/Daniel-Cintron-Ticketera.PNG new file mode 100644 index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..b853aefcb4ea1d33a791b7638f5a0b48059f5af1 GIT binary patch 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z7~g5{c-p+E6}MafW|({XG(kGTrP^+!KrB#8mhR?&nCgpkBzy(L+TMqlDzF&U*l4SS!NS*0h zT*l89YBfb#%^iKc=?1p6sAEQCvshB3xpFR-r9sV^-1UNO)M9Nfmk$XVYX`-Ty%l^m zuaoiewUG&(*+CUx==WfRgZm2ZEOYPQfTdS0rl?8xXccChw!D{TstD$5T7gr~ z-7hl(5Grt}4nERbM@Shj>EgVS4*oS*15eLAXtPv-!(d_KuU1WtZ~dY{pDOaN!{n=* z=^8utyBMwlcvDFj@VuBBXJEjWE_z+-}r^Vh0vpEs#Jbce!?+jHX^3IpQUP#BtUxYtkHY8U7X z*naByJLAA{QdD+tE+3_?lemX^5DwF;v1%ixdO9>lIb5IRXX)D!6iUMzDtS5~bNaS__QIeX{2$x3|MThp z^XdO{^Z)HJjQch&2#w*{)_8ZCyz3|{Q6J-3gRIc!T Date: Tue, 28 Sep 2021 15:34:48 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 12/50] Space --- Modules/Module4/Modulo4.py | 69 +++--------------- .../Daniel-Cintron-space.PNG | Bin 0 -> 22334 bytes .../Daniel-Cintron-space.py | 21 ++++++ 3 files changed, 33 insertions(+), 57 deletions(-) create mode 100644 Projects/Your weight in space/Daniel-Cintron-space.PNG create mode 100644 Projects/Your weight in space/Daniel-Cintron-space.py diff --git a/Modules/Module4/Modulo4.py b/Modules/Module4/Modulo4.py index 8a135e4b8..a6a6ed706 100644 --- a/Modules/Module4/Modulo4.py +++ b/Modules/Module4/Modulo4.py @@ -8,74 +8,29 @@ # meal="lasagna" # print(meal) -!-- - print('This message has a syntax error!") - print(Churrigueresco) +myNumber = 360 +print(f"The number is {myNumber}") - - Answer: print("This message has a syntax error!") - print("Churrigueresco") +#Define a function that takes 2 or more string parameters and prints a single line using them as part of a functional string. The function may do anything you chose but the function name and parameter names must be representative of what they are. - -Evaluate the following code. Is the code written correctly? What would be the correct code? - someNumber=360 - print('The Number is someNumber') -Expected: The Number is 360 - - - Answer: - myNumber = 360 - print(f"The number is {MyNumber}") - -Define a function that takes 2 or more string parameters and prints a single line using them as part of a functional string. The function may do anything you chose but the function name and parameter names must be representative of what they are. - - - Answer: +# Answer: myName = "Daniel Cintron" myAge:int = 14 myString = f'Hello {myName}! Your are {myAge}.' print(myString) -Refer to this documentation webpage and google for the exercises below: -https://www.w3schools.com/python/python_ref_string.asp - - -How do you find the length of a string? -Which code returns the length of the string s0: - -s0 = "What is my length? Store it as a number in a variable." - - - Answer: - s0 = "What is my length? Store it as a number in a variable" - ss0 = len(s0) - print(ss0) - -How do you create a substring in python? -Create a substring of s1 containing only my name. Store it in a variable called ss1. -https://www.freecodecamp.org/news/how-to-substring-a-string-in-python/ -s1 = "Hello Student! My name is Carlos Jose Cobián. I enjoy coding and video games!" +s0 = "What is my length? Store it as a number in a variable" +ss0 = len(s0) +print(ss0) - - Answer: ss1 = "Hello Student! My name is Carlos Jose Cobian" - ss1 = (s1[26:44]) - print(ss1) +s1 = "Hello Student! My name is Carlos Jose Cobian" +ss1 = (s1[26:44]) +print(ss1) -Capitalize every letter of ss1 using a function. Store it in a variable called SS1. - - - Answer: SS1 =ss1.upper() - print(SS1) +SS1 =ss1.upper() +print(SS1) -This last section is not worth any points, but is worth looking into. It is good string manipulation practice and contains exercises that you may see in a pop quiz! -https://codingbat.com/python/String-1 - - -Type down any class notes below this sentence: - - - -Lackluster responses may result in point deductions. ---> - -
- -## [Next Module ->](/../../tree/main/Modules/Module5/Module5.md) diff --git a/Projects/Your weight in space/Daniel-Cintron-space.PNG b/Projects/Your weight in space/Daniel-Cintron-space.PNG new file mode 100644 index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..d8e42a08c58a73ee3d334d054b64ad2c25c03d8c GIT binary patch literal 22334 zcmb@udsLEn+dt~O&HFghGwD3@jE$N~O{YmMQ^(X)n8ukg$I9}AC!`{w#3D32A<#Tc zIh9H$&n7i$9#BXT52(UY-~1!AN(Q8#^z%O8=L<~|KxALUw+T8`WCo+lo=KF zy$x;DWfu7GG3vnK12#5o# zWIsJMArFMK{{72?fBe4T!GFyC@XLlIxA^wPvAa(Hx*g7M{OG5+OBXMFdgrrK>l+_k z4EoT$?stdAkN(s3^V@fvKKnR(bK$zwYj^fW)g8q4kjl&(Whwo7iK)dzP<`rF%@EJ@ zioi3X6m2Wb5@~s3Z+Wv07}2BFZNL<4F7CdyHmgS)!`Fs+{CeGg0GEe9MtuZaUVYsJ z{I*HI8MAijJm|i5NlN)K>TMN`oTo}3SQWPt!;&6jA}R;x&hGE$D! z!nrHz-`4ebg-2S26PFEE3u*a-)-owGeIQ$&%W67vJ?W{C?2s9wkCwDbwthJBuAI3G zV+OYbD2AHnL_@Qc_jA&9v+M%61u-j^4$D;$UEnbtnY&huNqG!ln=Cs<5-5t=4 zn}>6lUUF16&WdcCBWC&PmB$I4SBPYjv%97FdPnO@UT(Eoo!)2ho#LkpMnx9KcF1@` 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z7_$n}T38J%sr;hq$XfS{g5g}DgR$(=VR?NjpUQN^k;bJxVwxb-^^(q2Rh`tRzR&|i z4bA}Gd%e4sEUEyv#>t0bD|`Hyq(EE@#?)iQlyR&`Ud|v$=i81%w1?Ux()cpGjHkCz zZJk7hmo7K6?7@WD5gG85)p(Rqr^N)%%j9S3JQy+6bI`{Q&B3!2$ literal 0 HcmV?d00001 diff --git a/Projects/Your weight in space/Daniel-Cintron-space.py b/Projects/Your weight in space/Daniel-Cintron-space.py new file mode 100644 index 000000000..aa166f866 --- /dev/null +++ b/Projects/Your weight in space/Daniel-Cintron-space.py @@ -0,0 +1,21 @@ +planets = ["Mercury", "Venus","Earth","Mars","Jupiter","Saturn","Uranus","Neptune"] +g_ms2 = [3.7, 8.87, 9.81, 3.711, 24.79, 10.44, 8.69, 11.15] + +print("Calculate your weight in a different planet") + +myWeight = int(input("What is your weight (pounds)? ")) +myPlanet = input(f"Select a planet from the list: {planets}") + +def calculateWeight(planet, mass): + print(f"\nEarth mass in pounds is: {mass}") + + w_kg = mass / 2.2046 + print(f"Mass in kg: {w_kg}") + + n_lb = 4.45 + + planet_index = planets.index(planet) + + print(f"Weight in {planets[planet_index]} is{(w_kg * g_ms2[planet_index]) / n_lb} lb ") + +calculateWeight(myPlanet, myWeight) \ No newline at end of file From e87138eec9c3ac886aa3e8a1fa65b214e6633da4 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Thu, 30 Sep 2021 15:21:06 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 13/50] Jump --- .../Daniel-Cintron-Jump.PNG | Bin 0 -> 30795 bytes .../Daniel-Cintron-Jump.py | 21 ++++++++++++++++++ 2 files changed, 21 insertions(+) create mode 100644 Projects/Your weight in space/Daniel-Cintron-Jump.PNG create mode 100644 Projects/Your weight in space/Daniel-Cintron-Jump.py diff --git a/Projects/Your weight in space/Daniel-Cintron-Jump.PNG 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zLuCHRlO|vN=D&It=c^HVHA4T!BU@ihlYcTzcnGtGqPzNmW8Yuv`UeM#bm_A{Ix6wn z^iKh~wru-g>>J>pAYXfbznEgiC>A|V+3dI_tvyp~{hXo^wJtDC3sn^$!)@s(U9p(Y ZzI>1yzFG@V$7Rd*?vC8W-ucz{{{sQ`BH;i4 literal 0 HcmV?d00001 diff --git a/Projects/Your weight in space/Daniel-Cintron-Jump.py b/Projects/Your weight in space/Daniel-Cintron-Jump.py new file mode 100644 index 000000000..1b7ba34fd --- /dev/null +++ b/Projects/Your weight in space/Daniel-Cintron-Jump.py @@ -0,0 +1,21 @@ +planets = ["Mercury","Venus", "Earth", "Mars", "Jupiter", "Saturn", "Uranus", "Neptune"] +rel_gravity = [2.65, 1.11, 1, 2.64, 0.40, 0.94, 1.13, 0.88] + +print("Jumping on other planets") + +myJump = int(input("What is your jumps length in (inches)? ")) +myPlanet = input(f"Select a planet from the list: {planets}") + +def calculateJump(planet, myJump): + print(f"\nEarth gravity in inches is: {myJump}") + + meters = myJump * 0.0254 + print(f"Length in meters: {meters}") + + + + planet_index = planets.index(planet) + + print(f"Your jump in {planets[planet_index]} is {meters * rel_gravity[planet_index]} m ") + +calculateJump(myPlanet, myJump) From dd6cec912e90ec42fe796bdefaa1644bb5f539fd Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Fri, 8 Oct 2021 15:10:37 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 14/50] Rock vs Paper vs Scissors --- .../Daniel-Cintron-RockPaperScissors.PNG | Bin 0 -> 19772 bytes Modules/Module5/RockPaperScissors.py | 33 ++++++++++++++++++ 2 files changed, 33 insertions(+) create mode 100644 Modules/Module5/Daniel-Cintron-RockPaperScissors.PNG create mode 100644 Modules/Module5/RockPaperScissors.py diff --git a/Modules/Module5/Daniel-Cintron-RockPaperScissors.PNG b/Modules/Module5/Daniel-Cintron-RockPaperScissors.PNG new file mode 100644 index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..dca81749eb003bbb77bb913e67598f5ee1ba89be GIT binary patch literal 19772 zcmdSB2~^T)|2N#+-jnw%=}gT%EpF3THcq9PskwmDIA!KmS(*z{nv&v@A}A_2O*2E5 zOR0s5LXPE<3b}{4)VSq>xS%A8lqe`Dq<{p7zCWC~|Ic&I^PJ~>&U4=PocBGa1r)E} zb$zez{{4JRKkwzbSUq$`SwRqPz7XVYjivS?yPz(B2Q9+WJAxZ#ccJ7mF573HP^t zF!9}gmbzD^XB6C)ESF0K4Cv;%ltJmxtWCY)zcxu*Uy*ZYiJ`?CYtPBm5`tZ9kIHC5 zPU+Z4e(6A}$<;2j_^916;fm4r^TZwR5#WTg;>o1VCAuO{U$kzD(|e^N^P8&v`ry|+ zF1QHmbCcOoKReE923>H22MKCY?MI9^V-9~GB3TS9mTy~%)bY^BcKxG4`C*0ULP!-5 z{cM#sXH?%3mNz(9_6YGqgio)V1t{Do_Nj@(H}*b>RY5}blURtOsuinIT{{vC4>~Y2 z)g0R~pKA!$oCrQPa|wItkXAaQN2BzOlIXt|>ipJXFD6Vx{nC-DTphMxHMm!^i3+A1 zMfJig`-uAB&z$QV6Fxi$s&L0-yP!dP9v7(^1_}?xWX6SqQXn4oq{_dK1#J1M4t@KY zByCgOd8R1SoWQQf=^?F2wlcMBajaP~dOKcN|Bix;AkkB!y&Z)&I+2o;CngSaD%bdT z52-9{LwN?W1T(|RkMOQu@A`+te5yt;lGKJFS3!!mF01*uQ^E(0g4+@8F?m4Y8N+SZ zcwOScJyH&$7@}@&`%$fsaMPOKm9@scNnGfC^`nZ3W$}MBa(-|=^xN9wtgaw8L$*nc zAf|N&%o-l9|BCU^zgEiV@yjgHGvdId#0ZNByZMj%vsZu2%vFpf z8)xp0NQ?OU*vE_==3LjQLuZOSV{B=fUX|!f68nIZxXLCvFs&j%^XUb(xdxiDpwU=Z z;=*~6W#7{YR_aB(GCZRKz7x|ro=ol`^q=a0Kzg>ce$f}WtiSZX<>UWT3nF%xbXNIM z+OZq!N)ah-Ln&|OVhyG)HIyuGSxDeFYm=$3NlmR@a#l+M1Zy@S(pt>>`2jqI0_`xK zT1-pQQ>+1o#T73CHWt?+c6I7@{tWx^w2OFgOHG%L=o=A7%~p&JGELBT!jHZ#r}V|p z_lR=Vus$22e2z)nvYf<_b~?VQ4v)P31v@D^3JTG|44Y6KSj zH~9geLS!3bhxa%A?c$wYbfj%=l*eL+S_EfIYg4$^a8zIZ+z?;biPP6-MK$eFjFo%q zOH$P388-g&7&_);{RHC`V)FF^Q;~Xw*Bc9;5f!*wIzLPKT$wB%e%Jfr44_Ue6NxxI zrPr)*KS-{$u-2D3y}9k_W;?)KIj7DW_koENM=w%;rr)sL7t3weSm5_j z9B5YGQU>kA`b_O9OSW92+AH3xe}GtnxQ(vK8g~^-IYM0J1SsUy(!s(q3lW;B-$hxD zTgJS;(uclGO0vO^Pgg=QC`zUq1X?e1EKI49h-&-iZ|Jf54et=pYqohc;wf@WT_7U> z)nM^q#QC#PyLlK3VTUuW9}2abA#)>JQ@@TJYFx?*`eB{v4jcxCNnAJvsyJi(lk|N7 z+}Kyzj@2!U|KeUg`aKzmhMFX&dmjlY1BF#)@4Icamtd7_0g}kt`1_NE&4KmbqnXGn zC7wOAAa2A^$?1vRV=cq&Gq}4=RgGkLo`_A(_L=h3d{;$yR1r67!E!~xF(-6`MIRbU z!OLX~ady}BQbH2QOEn?NYU%2>z_)TSe9Eb6!@SzHt^=s(F{x9aUCDAJXe|70AF}_o z^6Rv(g9=lIVK%z`7iSQYnav_s<%t=YAjXLIUAQp5*g@-~ckVWF@IX%H&6PBQ->wpm z3x%B)8WF!>wV}#Nbh6P|rGv!WAjU6hDCj%H*+*kbJ5=vk+Ueuyz zUUkE=CVoM|CVo@o%{zP-h?zj45RY4XOeqbJ%tU6aU2ySX z`MUp)8Vh~{zsg4Isj`An7tWi+JkY(=Us38AO}ZjK^=Q@UU%Ww`XiU!&-w9)%U}~ zc8k8lk6%G%`aFswXBMDRaUi&Fhe2j3)yHp25?{a{RzoB2+RwKd2u2OdK0vYyoP2r; 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Choose one: rock, paper, scissors\n") + +computerChoice = random.choice(RPS) +print(f"Computer selected: {computerChoice}") +print(f"Player selected: {playerChoice}") + +if(playerChoice == computerChoice) : + print("You tied :-/") + +elif(playerChoice == "rock" and computerChoice == "scissors") : + print("Rock crushes Scissor. You won! :)") + +elif(playerChoice == "rock" and computerChoice == "paper") : + print("Rock gets suffocated Paper. You lost! :)") + +elif(playerChoice == "paper" and computerChoice == "rock") : + print("Paper suffucates Rock . You won! :)") + +elif(playerChoice == "paper" and computerChoice == "scissors") : + print("Paper gets decapitated by Scissors. You lost! :)") + +elif(playerChoice == "scissors" and computerChoice == "rock") : + print("Scissor gets crushed by Rock. You lost! :)") + +elif(playerChoice == "scissors" and computerChoice == "paper") : + print("Scissor cuts Paper. You won! :)") + +else: + print("Something isn't right, maybe try again") \ No newline at end of file From d65b065f937621a329abdcf05dabdfe0319f36e0 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Tue, 12 Oct 2021 12:58:13 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 15/50] Update Module5.md --- Modules/Module5/Module5.md | 11 +++++++++++ 1 file changed, 11 insertions(+) diff --git a/Modules/Module5/Module5.md b/Modules/Module5/Module5.md index 49ef54f6f..743aff5af 100644 --- a/Modules/Module5/Module5.md +++ b/Modules/Module5/Module5.md @@ -82,8 +82,19 @@ Give a python example for each logic operator in the module image. - Answers: - OR: + pinneapples:6 + if (pinneapples > 2 or pinneapples < 7): + print("You have less pinneapples.") #true - AND: + pinneapples:8 + if (pinneapples > 1 and pinneapples < 9): + print("You have few pinneapples.") #true - NOT: + pinneapples:6 + if not (pinneapples > 2 or pinneapples < 7): + print("You have less pinneapples.") #false + else: + print("You have more pinneapples") Type down any class notes below this sentence: From 54ed1e9ff699ae4c127fd595371061ff73fec552 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Mon, 18 Oct 2021 15:18:02 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 16/50] 8ball --- Modules/Module5/Daniel-Cintron-magic8.PNG | Bin 0 -> 30195 bytes Modules/Module5/Daniel-Cintron-magic8.py | 36 ++++++++++++++++++++++ 2 files changed, 36 insertions(+) create mode 100644 Modules/Module5/Daniel-Cintron-magic8.PNG create mode 100644 Modules/Module5/Daniel-Cintron-magic8.py diff --git a/Modules/Module5/Daniel-Cintron-magic8.PNG b/Modules/Module5/Daniel-Cintron-magic8.PNG new file mode 100644 index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..4dec6d3964bb89abda262b3b47d86add713945a9 GIT binary patch literal 30195 zcmeFZd05hE|3BJ%n`fN9GiguLOl2<9URFAmT5d39Q<A?`pkrp~yL%96NHI*Nio1|LumI3JsNe!u5z-|KtMb^bZmIb4@l7|4CU 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zpYkoA1wr#}`J0+sl65it*3Z}c`-Bc&YVc2=VErnL^p{6ozrEqNdH82saeiA%zs5W0 zw^90Sl=MC>250_hAFAKh(r;_&x3#1{H~+s}FFo_owT&#naz}j`$9BZEL)D+hLGJ?$ ImoNVGucWL Date: Wed, 20 Oct 2021 15:16:45 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 17/50] Create Daniel-Cintron-Simpsons-Shipping.py --- .../Daniel-Cintron-Simpsons-Shipping.py | 47 +++++++++++++++++++ 1 file changed, 47 insertions(+) create mode 100644 Modules/Module5/Daniel-Cintron-Simpsons-Shipping.py diff --git a/Modules/Module5/Daniel-Cintron-Simpsons-Shipping.py b/Modules/Module5/Daniel-Cintron-Simpsons-Shipping.py new file mode 100644 index 000000000..c53eb5d34 --- /dev/null +++ b/Modules/Module5/Daniel-Cintron-Simpsons-Shipping.py @@ -0,0 +1,47 @@ +print("Welcome to Simpsons' Shipping") +weight:float = float(input("What is the weight of your package?")) +#ground shipping + +if (weight == 2 and weight < 2): + cost_ground = float(weight * 1.75 + 20) + print("Ground Shipping: $", float(cost_ground)) +elif (weight > 2 and weight <= 6): + cost_ground = weight * 3.50 + 20 + print("Ground Shipping: $", float(cost_ground)) +elif (weight > 6 and weight <= 10): + cost_ground = weight * 4.50 + 20 + print("Ground Shipping: $", float(cost_ground)) +else: + cost_ground = weight * 5.25 + 20 + print("Ground Shipping: $", float(cost_ground)) +#courier shipping + +if (weight == 2 and weight <2): + cost_courier = weight * 3.50 + 5 + print("Courier Shipping: $", float(cost_courier)) +elif (weight > 2 and weight <= 6): + cost_courier = weight * 7.00 + 8 + print("Courier Shipping: $", float(cost_courier)) +elif (weight > 6 and weight <= 10): + cost_courier = weight * 9.00 + 12 + print("Courier Shipping: $", float(cost_courier)) +else: + cost_courier = weight * 10.50 + 15 + print("Courier Shipping: $", float(cost_courier)) +#drone shipping + +if (weight == 2 and weight <2): + cost_drone = weight * 5.25 + print("Drone Shipping: $", float(cost_drone)) +elif (weight > 2 and weight <= 6): + cost_drone = weight * 10.50 + print("Drone Shipping: $", float(cost_drone)) +elif (weight > 6 and weight <= 10): + cost_drone = weight * 13.50 + print("Drone Shipping: $", float(cost_drone)) +else: + cost_drone = weight * 15.75 + print("Drone Shipping: $", float(cost_drone)) +#ground shipping premium + +print("Ground Shipping Premium $150") From 096a566a43123d46425aad75224b1a52d85e80aa Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Wed, 20 Oct 2021 15:18:39 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 18/50] Create Daniel-Cintron-Simpsons-Shipping.PNG --- .../Daniel-Cintron-Simpsons-Shipping.PNG | Bin 0 -> 26614 bytes 1 file changed, 0 insertions(+), 0 deletions(-) create mode 100644 Modules/Module5/Daniel-Cintron-Simpsons-Shipping.PNG diff --git a/Modules/Module5/Daniel-Cintron-Simpsons-Shipping.PNG b/Modules/Module5/Daniel-Cintron-Simpsons-Shipping.PNG new file mode 100644 index 0000000000000000000000000000000000000000..07e96f2d50cc1f313d6720935a777889e02b812d GIT binary patch literal 26614 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z8^&_faY~oYnG~P`yi{OGakiXrOrVUv{2>y^+bQPS%Lu*Gpcg6bjh@$H*>RY<3kb5? zq)%#f12Q-_K-_3u2O8NX{kM^#p40&~uZ?vqPKn-4zAezy>0JSp`{_6sp0N%?xadJJ zgphk#brpBk3%6<2=&K3p3O$_bbvfuM#)U446ZW@h<2{hdx#!1L;)!34OZR|jlSBl% zv=gQuu8DIy=MLNo8G1Y|jd>7Es!8g%ra6Q~72+E3HW~$y)5)DVhOBW7^L!IDKqI1_ zy%}jKq3aEQgV?wA-gMEWuk=0vdw492cNzY>>NlJ6jTAOhW)!Pgb8T;b{XyP)kCFQT z_Ktx59=C%t@%fvJf)=lz8U4LoZ;rIz;0^z6d-lJcM*f?w?sp#p`0(GI>;7&fLGkeG zQTOkbf{nXMJRelcfi kzI9(XzQObZ;RiJ?^2^GGPZp+KFm1=cJqLDEcOCiq?*;w1G5`Po literal 0 HcmV?d00001 From 926c867544ecaf9091c1e644345b2eac055c891c Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Thu, 21 Oct 2021 13:00:51 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 19/50] Update Daniel-Cintron-Simpsons-Shipping.py --- Modules/Module5/Daniel-Cintron-Simpsons-Shipping.py | 6 +++--- 1 file changed, 3 insertions(+), 3 deletions(-) diff --git a/Modules/Module5/Daniel-Cintron-Simpsons-Shipping.py b/Modules/Module5/Daniel-Cintron-Simpsons-Shipping.py index c53eb5d34..232c08d2d 100644 --- a/Modules/Module5/Daniel-Cintron-Simpsons-Shipping.py +++ b/Modules/Module5/Daniel-Cintron-Simpsons-Shipping.py @@ -2,7 +2,7 @@ weight:float = float(input("What is the weight of your package?")) #ground shipping -if (weight == 2 and weight < 2): +if (weight == 2 or weight < 2): cost_ground = float(weight * 1.75 + 20) print("Ground Shipping: $", float(cost_ground)) elif (weight > 2 and weight <= 6): @@ -16,7 +16,7 @@ print("Ground Shipping: $", float(cost_ground)) #courier shipping -if (weight == 2 and weight <2): +if (weight == 2 or weight <2): cost_courier = weight * 3.50 + 5 print("Courier Shipping: $", float(cost_courier)) elif (weight > 2 and weight <= 6): @@ -30,7 +30,7 @@ print("Courier Shipping: $", float(cost_courier)) #drone shipping -if (weight == 2 and weight <2): +if (weight == 2 or weight <2): cost_drone = weight * 5.25 print("Drone Shipping: $", float(cost_drone)) elif (weight > 2 and weight <= 6): From 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z2lyVK@!TkFa|^kkoR^+$Z{YhAInOO$dS^}?Y5S1AUe=LuLL`R?tJ~MgDrUK#&WVA- zJ~oD^u5XAMl*gf#G{Cc$JN=MJ>@{>h7(*Wsa!REEOspq%@XTLy#F7M!Grc2PrO`Z! zNhByL_|J^Dt|f1!d(_O=rRUEzCil*oUW*S=;56#Fph#-EwoT8|#wVdLiuGz9oULbU zRIYZKv2s>J0kKXoY(NXsh_+}pvdWv=M=&B&uFo4{|AGZI3?k7;+EQq#akT76ANI}o zgzWpAOtBks=6p7JxD*U&xZ$nS?C~AC&J$#yKLD>*F67qPM`NrgYN=$|Co$4Yw?S|7 z>m|nh6_*WZ&!>#-CVg`u^}z%EW+c%hPsb#1h=CQ!O1jZn7L36KE+*3`@kvB_XEKZ4 zEJ{PfsSV+A;$&MXzTPB=$prg>%}o%ui>j2$pgxWQO!m-FfMDd%Xxw=JYHa+du!TnjO`cHh_731H~NDf4_$j$wM|pIWcYU(qNqxn<=*@u6_V zn3tEgsB^z#E)Pb<7L+VB*i?dUUW>h@Zykkjw1LvRWQ<{ATbfxc>XtlaigEh^)fl%< zZV*%AEB(s{9F05?@2oGSV!%;4J#aY(K3@HH@vi#EZ(;aw=>$7h3#bNi=N0-|+Cw8t`l)Y^*j(zYqOqq~EV)d1pn! zX3xR>V=nHz^6;drKRxxz6;<(VGPo`M5G>;|imXP0z2>OI+{-=-$4yI>8pXqFdfhA+ z8^&_faY~oYnG~P`yi{OGakiXrOrVUv{2>y^+bQPS%Lu*Gpcg6bjh@$H*>RY<3kb5? zq)%#f12Q-_K-_3u2O8NX{kM^#p40&~uZ?vqPKn-4zAezy>0JSp`{_6sp0N%?xadJJ zgphk#brpBk3%6<2=&K3p3O$_bbvfuM#)U446ZW@h<2{hdx#!1L;)!34OZR|jlSBl% zv=gQuu8DIy=MLNo8G1Y|jd>7Es!8g%ra6Q~72+E3HW~$y)5)DVhOBW7^L!IDKqI1_ zy%}jKq3aEQgV?wA-gMEWuk=0vdw492cNzY>>NlJ6jTAOhW)!Pgb8T;b{XyP)kCFQT z_Ktx59=C%t@%fvJf)=lz8U4LoZ;rIz;0^z6d-lJcM*f?w?sp#p`0(GI>;7&fLGkeG zQTOkbf{nXMJRelcfi kzI9(XzQObZ;RiJ?^2^GGPZp+KFm1=cJqLDEcOCiq?*;w1G5`Po From 63fbe69de4b3969e0bc30914560819a183ec6998 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Tue, 26 Oct 2021 14:50:42 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 21/50] Create Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py --- .../Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py | 18 ++++++++++++++++++ 1 file changed, 18 insertions(+) create mode 100644 Projects/Projectile-Motion/Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py diff --git a/Projects/Projectile-Motion/Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py b/Projects/Projectile-Motion/Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py new file mode 100644 index 000000000..fd1c59fb0 --- /dev/null +++ b/Projects/Projectile-Motion/Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py @@ -0,0 +1,18 @@ +gun = "DT MDR" +cartridge = "5.56x45mm" +rounds = "Full-Auto" +velocity_ms = 650 + +Building = "Minillas South Tower" +BuildingHeight = 244 + +gravity = 9.81 + +import math + +time_s = math.sqrt((2 * BuildingHeight) / gravity) + +distance = (velocity_ms * time_s) + +print(f"The gun chosen was {gun} its cartridge is {cartridge}, its rounds are {rounds} and the bullets velocity was {velocity_ms}.m/s") +print("Its the product of the US-based company Desert Tech LLC MDR rifle is a modular, multi-caliber weapon with compact bullpup layout. Barrel lengths and calibers can be changed by the end user within minutes with a minimum amount of tools.") \ No newline at end of file From a7c022ea068066629b966469ad51eb15792c1223 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Thu, 28 Oct 2021 14:32:54 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 22/50] Update Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py --- .../Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py | 22 +++++++++++-------- 1 file changed, 13 insertions(+), 9 deletions(-) diff --git a/Projects/Projectile-Motion/Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py b/Projects/Projectile-Motion/Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py index fd1c59fb0..3993a4013 100644 --- a/Projects/Projectile-Motion/Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py +++ b/Projects/Projectile-Motion/Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py @@ -1,18 +1,22 @@ -gun = "DT MDR" -cartridge = "5.56x45mm" -rounds = "Full-Auto" -velocity_ms = 650 +import math -Building = "Minillas South Tower" -BuildingHeight = 244 +# gun = "DT MDR" +# cartridge = "5.56x45mm" +# rounds = "HP" +# velocity_ms = 941 -gravity = 9.81 +# Building = "Minillas South Tower" +# BuildingHeight = 244 -import math +# gravity = 9.81 + +def ProjectileFunction(gun:str, cartridge:str, rounds:str, velocity_ms:int, Building:str, Buildingsweight:str, gravity:str) time_s = math.sqrt((2 * BuildingHeight) / gravity) distance = (velocity_ms * time_s) print(f"The gun chosen was {gun} its cartridge is {cartridge}, its rounds are {rounds} and the bullets velocity was {velocity_ms}.m/s") -print("Its the product of the US-based company Desert Tech LLC MDR rifle is a modular, multi-caliber weapon with compact bullpup layout. Barrel lengths and calibers can be changed by the end user within minutes with a minimum amount of tools.") \ No newline at end of file +print("Its the product of the US-based company Desert Tech LLC MDR rifle is a modular, multi-caliber weapon with compact bullpup layout. Barrel lengths and calibers can be changed by the end user within minutes with a minimum amount of tools.") + +ProjectileFunction("DT MDR", "5.56x45mm", "HP", 941, "Minillas South Tower", 244, 9.81) \ No newline at end of file From c15bd7b6e59e9813d29d90e74767a53aaf5ada70 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Wed, 3 Nov 2021 14:52:48 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 23/50] Update Project --- .../Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py | 31 ++++++++++++++----- .../Projectile-Motion/ExperimentalData.py | 9 ++++++ 2 files changed, 33 insertions(+), 7 deletions(-) create mode 100644 Projects/Projectile-Motion/ExperimentalData.py diff --git a/Projects/Projectile-Motion/Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py b/Projects/Projectile-Motion/Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py index 3993a4013..755451c06 100644 --- a/Projects/Projectile-Motion/Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py +++ b/Projects/Projectile-Motion/Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py @@ -1,5 +1,5 @@ import math - +from ExperimentalData import ExperimentalData # gun = "DT MDR" # cartridge = "5.56x45mm" # rounds = "HP" @@ -11,12 +11,29 @@ # gravity = 9.81 -def ProjectileFunction(gun:str, cartridge:str, rounds:str, velocity_ms:int, Building:str, Buildingsweight:str, gravity:str) -time_s = math.sqrt((2 * BuildingHeight) / gravity) +def ProjectileFunction(experimentalData:ExperimentalData): + + time_s =math.sqrt((2 * BuidingHeight) / gravity) + + # distance = experimentationData([velocity_ms] * time_s) + distance = (velocity_ms * time_s) + + print(f"The gun chosen was {gun} its cartridge is {cartridge}, its rounds are {rounds} and the bullets velocity was {velocity_ms}.m/s") + print("Its the product of the US-based company Desert Tech LLC MDR rifle is a modular, multi-caliber weapon with compact bullpup layout. Barrel lengths and calibers can be changed by the end user within minutes with a minimum amount of tools.") + +#Convert your parameters into a single JSON Object. +# experimentationData = { + +# "gun" : "DT MDR", +# "cartridge" : "5.56x45mm", +# "rounds" : "HP", +# "velocity_ms" : 941, +# "Building" : "Minillas South Tower", +# "BuildingHeight" : 244, +# "gravity" : 9.81 -distance = (velocity_ms * time_s) +# } -print(f"The gun chosen was {gun} its cartridge is {cartridge}, its rounds are {rounds} and the bullets velocity was {velocity_ms}.m/s") -print("Its the product of the US-based company Desert Tech LLC MDR rifle is a modular, multi-caliber weapon with compact bullpup layout. Barrel lengths and calibers can be changed by the end user within minutes with a minimum amount of tools.") -ProjectileFunction("DT MDR", "5.56x45mm", "HP", 941, "Minillas South Tower", 244, 9.81) \ No newline at end of file +experimentalData = ExperimentalData("DT MDR", "5.56x45mm", "HP", 941, "Minillas South Tower", 244, 9.81) +ProjectileFunction(experimentalData) \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/Projects/Projectile-Motion/ExperimentalData.py b/Projects/Projectile-Motion/ExperimentalData.py new file mode 100644 index 000000000..48314a82f --- /dev/null +++ b/Projects/Projectile-Motion/ExperimentalData.py @@ -0,0 +1,9 @@ +class ExperimentalData: + def __init__(self, gun:str, cartridge:str, rounds:str, velocity_ms:int, Building:str, BuildingHeight:str, gravity:int): + self.gun = gun + self.cartridge = cartridge + self.rounds = rounds + self.velocity_ms = velocity_ms + self.Building = Building + self.BuildingHeight = BuildingHeight + self.gravity = gravity \ No newline at end of file From 28c1c944c96080a2ae67817f23567e2f24c96cc3 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Fri, 5 Nov 2021 15:04:28 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 24/50] Update Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py --- .../Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py | 40 +++++++++++++++---- 1 file changed, 33 insertions(+), 7 deletions(-) diff --git a/Projects/Projectile-Motion/Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py b/Projects/Projectile-Motion/Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py index 755451c06..4e7ab4437 100644 --- a/Projects/Projectile-Motion/Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py +++ b/Projects/Projectile-Motion/Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py @@ -1,9 +1,14 @@ import math from ExperimentalData import ExperimentalData + +from pathlib import Path +import json +import os + # gun = "DT MDR" # cartridge = "5.56x45mm" # rounds = "HP" -# velocity_ms = 941 +# velocity_ms = 947 # Building = "Minillas South Tower" # BuildingHeight = 244 @@ -13,21 +18,21 @@ def ProjectileFunction(experimentalData:ExperimentalData): - time_s =math.sqrt((2 * BuidingHeight) / gravity) + time_s =math.sqrt((2 * experimentalData.BuildingHeight) / experimentalData.gravity) # distance = experimentationData([velocity_ms] * time_s) - distance = (velocity_ms * time_s) + distance = (experimentalData.velocity_ms * time_s) - print(f"The gun chosen was {gun} its cartridge is {cartridge}, its rounds are {rounds} and the bullets velocity was {velocity_ms}.m/s") + print(f"The gun chosen was {experimentalData.gun} its cartridge is {experimentalData.cartridge}, its rounds are {experimentalData.rounds} and the bullets velocity was {experimentalData.velocity_ms}.m/s") print("Its the product of the US-based company Desert Tech LLC MDR rifle is a modular, multi-caliber weapon with compact bullpup layout. Barrel lengths and calibers can be changed by the end user within minutes with a minimum amount of tools.") - + print(f"The projectile will go to a distance of {distance}, and the time it will take to cover it is {time_s} ") #Convert your parameters into a single JSON Object. # experimentationData = { # "gun" : "DT MDR", # "cartridge" : "5.56x45mm", # "rounds" : "HP", -# "velocity_ms" : 941, +# "velocity_ms" : 947, # "Building" : "Minillas South Tower", # "BuildingHeight" : 244, # "gravity" : 9.81 @@ -36,4 +41,25 @@ def ProjectileFunction(experimentalData:ExperimentalData): experimentalData = ExperimentalData("DT MDR", "5.56x45mm", "HP", 941, "Minillas South Tower", 244, 9.81) -ProjectileFunction(experimentalData) \ No newline at end of file + +myDataSet = [ +ExperimentalData("DT MDR", "5.56x45mm", "HP", 947, "Minillas South Tower", 244, 9.81), +ExperimentalData("DT MDR", "5.56x45mm", "FMJ", 957, "Minillas South Tower", 244, 9.81), +ExperimentalData("DT MDR", "5.56x45mm", "M855", 922, "Minillas South Tower", 244, 9.81), +ExperimentalData("DT MDR", "5.56x45mm", "M855A1", 945, "Minillas South Tower", 244, 9.81), +ExperimentalData("DT MDR", "5.56x45mm", "M856", 874, "Minillas South Tower", 244, 9.81) +] + +for data in myDataSet: + print("\n---------------------------------------\n") + ProjectileFunction(data) + +# Serialization +myOutputPath = Path(__file__).parents[0] +myOutputFilePath = os.path.join(myOutputPath, 'Projectile-Motion.json') + +with open(myOutputFilePath, 'w') as outfile: + json.dump([data.__dict__ for data in myDataSet], outfile) + #json.dump(myDataSet[0].__dict__, outfile) + +# ProjectileFunction(experimentalData) \ No newline at end of file From 0c40998ec6624e2fa0a16db61d63028d3679add2 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Thu, 11 Nov 2021 15:06:15 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 25/50] Planets update --- .../Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py | 31 +++++++++++++------ .../Projectile-Motion/ExperimentalData.py | 4 +-- .../Projectile-Motion/Projectile-Motion.json | 1 + 3 files changed, 24 insertions(+), 12 deletions(-) create mode 100644 Projects/Projectile-Motion/Projectile-Motion.json diff --git a/Projects/Projectile-Motion/Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py b/Projects/Projectile-Motion/Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py index 4e7ab4437..701f8a943 100644 --- a/Projects/Projectile-Motion/Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py +++ b/Projects/Projectile-Motion/Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py @@ -17,15 +17,17 @@ def ProjectileFunction(experimentalData:ExperimentalData): - - time_s =math.sqrt((2 * experimentalData.BuildingHeight) / experimentalData.gravity) + planets = ["Mercury", "Venus", "Earth", "Mars", "Jupiter", "Saturn", "Uranus", "Neptune"] + g_ms2 = [3.7, 8.87, 9.81, 3.711, 24.79, 10.44, 8.69, 11.15] + + time_s =math.sqrt((2 * experimentalData.BuildingHeight) / experimentalData.planets) # distance = experimentationData([velocity_ms] * time_s) distance = (experimentalData.velocity_ms * time_s) print(f"The gun chosen was {experimentalData.gun} its cartridge is {experimentalData.cartridge}, its rounds are {experimentalData.rounds} and the bullets velocity was {experimentalData.velocity_ms}.m/s") print("Its the product of the US-based company Desert Tech LLC MDR rifle is a modular, multi-caliber weapon with compact bullpup layout. Barrel lengths and calibers can be changed by the end user within minutes with a minimum amount of tools.") - print(f"The projectile will go to a distance of {distance}, and the time it will take to cover it is {time_s} ") + print(f"The projectile will go to a distance of {distance}, and the time it will take to cover it is {time_s} and the planet is {experimentalData.planets} ") #Convert your parameters into a single JSON Object. # experimentationData = { @@ -35,19 +37,19 @@ def ProjectileFunction(experimentalData:ExperimentalData): # "velocity_ms" : 947, # "Building" : "Minillas South Tower", # "BuildingHeight" : 244, -# "gravity" : 9.81 +# "Planet" : 9.81 # } -experimentalData = ExperimentalData("DT MDR", "5.56x45mm", "HP", 941, "Minillas South Tower", 244, 9.81) +#experimentalData = ExperimentalData("DT MDR", "5.56x45mm", "HP", 941, "Minillas South Tower", 244, 9.81) myDataSet = [ -ExperimentalData("DT MDR", "5.56x45mm", "HP", 947, "Minillas South Tower", 244, 9.81), -ExperimentalData("DT MDR", "5.56x45mm", "FMJ", 957, "Minillas South Tower", 244, 9.81), -ExperimentalData("DT MDR", "5.56x45mm", "M855", 922, "Minillas South Tower", 244, 9.81), -ExperimentalData("DT MDR", "5.56x45mm", "M855A1", 945, "Minillas South Tower", 244, 9.81), -ExperimentalData("DT MDR", "5.56x45mm", "M856", 874, "Minillas South Tower", 244, 9.81) +ExperimentalData("DT MDR", "5.56x45mm", "HP", 947, "Minillas South Tower", 244, "Earth"), +ExperimentalData("DT MDR", "5.56x45mm", "FMJ", 957, "Minillas South Tower", 244, "Mars"), +ExperimentalData("DT MDR", "5.56x45mm", "M855", 922, "Minillas South Tower", 244, "Jupiter"), +ExperimentalData("DT MDR", "5.56x45mm", "M855A1", 945, "Minillas South Tower", 244, "Neptune"), +ExperimentalData("DT MDR", "5.56x45mm", "M856", 874, "Minillas South Tower", 244, "Saturn") ] for data in myDataSet: @@ -58,8 +60,17 @@ def ProjectileFunction(experimentalData:ExperimentalData): myOutputPath = Path(__file__).parents[0] myOutputFilePath = os.path.join(myOutputPath, 'Projectile-Motion.json') +print(myOutputFilePath) + with open(myOutputFilePath, 'w') as outfile: json.dump([data.__dict__ for data in myDataSet], outfile) + + #Deserialzation + deserialize = open(myOutputFilePath) + experimentJson = json.load(deserialize) + + for e in experimentJson: + ExperimentalData(**e).run() #json.dump(myDataSet[0].__dict__, outfile) # ProjectileFunction(experimentalData) \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/Projects/Projectile-Motion/ExperimentalData.py b/Projects/Projectile-Motion/ExperimentalData.py index 48314a82f..847c9327a 100644 --- a/Projects/Projectile-Motion/ExperimentalData.py +++ b/Projects/Projectile-Motion/ExperimentalData.py @@ -1,9 +1,9 @@ class ExperimentalData: - def __init__(self, gun:str, cartridge:str, rounds:str, velocity_ms:int, Building:str, BuildingHeight:str, gravity:int): + def __init__(self, gun:str, cartridge:str, rounds:str, velocity_ms:int, Building:str, BuildingHeight:str, planets:str): self.gun = gun self.cartridge = cartridge self.rounds = rounds self.velocity_ms = velocity_ms self.Building = Building self.BuildingHeight = BuildingHeight - self.gravity = gravity \ No newline at end of file + self.planets = planets \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/Projects/Projectile-Motion/Projectile-Motion.json b/Projects/Projectile-Motion/Projectile-Motion.json new file mode 100644 index 000000000..c262cc40f --- /dev/null +++ b/Projects/Projectile-Motion/Projectile-Motion.json @@ -0,0 +1 @@ +[{"gun": "DT MDR", "cartridge": "5.56x45mm", "rounds": "HP", "velocity_ms": 947, "Building": "Minillas South Tower", "BuildingHeight": 244, "gravity": 9.81}, {"gun": "DT MDR", "cartridge": "5.56x45mm", "rounds": "FMJ", "velocity_ms": 957, "Building": "Minillas South Tower", "BuildingHeight": 244, "gravity": 9.81}, {"gun": "DT MDR", "cartridge": "5.56x45mm", "rounds": "M855", "velocity_ms": 922, "Building": "Minillas South Tower", "BuildingHeight": 244, "gravity": 9.81}, {"gun": "DT MDR", "cartridge": "5.56x45mm", "rounds": "M855A1", "velocity_ms": 945, "Building": "Minillas South Tower", "BuildingHeight": 244, "gravity": 9.81}, {"gun": "DT MDR", "cartridge": "5.56x45mm", "rounds": "M856", "velocity_ms": 874, "Building": "Minillas South Tower", "BuildingHeight": 244, "gravity": 9.81}] \ No newline at end of file From bc6c283c8c73f8527d0dd10ec60fa936b76f524d Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Fri, 12 Nov 2021 13:30:22 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 26/50] Update Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py --- .../Projectile-Motion/Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py | 8 +++++--- 1 file changed, 5 insertions(+), 3 deletions(-) diff --git a/Projects/Projectile-Motion/Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py b/Projects/Projectile-Motion/Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py index 701f8a943..6ead3cb81 100644 --- a/Projects/Projectile-Motion/Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py +++ b/Projects/Projectile-Motion/Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py @@ -27,7 +27,7 @@ def ProjectileFunction(experimentalData:ExperimentalData): print(f"The gun chosen was {experimentalData.gun} its cartridge is {experimentalData.cartridge}, its rounds are {experimentalData.rounds} and the bullets velocity was {experimentalData.velocity_ms}.m/s") print("Its the product of the US-based company Desert Tech LLC MDR rifle is a modular, multi-caliber weapon with compact bullpup layout. Barrel lengths and calibers can be changed by the end user within minutes with a minimum amount of tools.") - print(f"The projectile will go to a distance of {distance}, and the time it will take to cover it is {time_s} and the planet is {experimentalData.planets} ") + print(f"The projectile will go to a distance of {distance}, and the time it will take to cover it is {time_s} and the planets and gravity is {experimentalData.planets}") #Convert your parameters into a single JSON Object. # experimentationData = { @@ -69,8 +69,10 @@ def ProjectileFunction(experimentalData:ExperimentalData): deserialize = open(myOutputFilePath) experimentJson = json.load(deserialize) - for e in experimentJson: - ExperimentalData(**e).run() +for e in experimentJson: + print("\n-------------------------------------------------\n") + ProjectileFunction(ExperimentalData(**e)) + #json.dump(myDataSet[0].__dict__, outfile) # ProjectileFunction(experimentalData) \ No newline at end of file From bb482a9d05d6d6a45949c315792f27fd2a5d834c Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Fri, 12 Nov 2021 13:33:16 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 27/50] Update Projectile-Motion.json --- Projects/Projectile-Motion/Projectile-Motion.json | 2 +- 1 file changed, 1 insertion(+), 1 deletion(-) diff --git a/Projects/Projectile-Motion/Projectile-Motion.json b/Projects/Projectile-Motion/Projectile-Motion.json index c262cc40f..c2c1f27f6 100644 --- a/Projects/Projectile-Motion/Projectile-Motion.json +++ b/Projects/Projectile-Motion/Projectile-Motion.json @@ -1 +1 @@ -[{"gun": "DT MDR", "cartridge": "5.56x45mm", "rounds": "HP", "velocity_ms": 947, "Building": "Minillas South Tower", "BuildingHeight": 244, "gravity": 9.81}, {"gun": "DT MDR", "cartridge": "5.56x45mm", "rounds": "FMJ", "velocity_ms": 957, "Building": "Minillas South Tower", "BuildingHeight": 244, "gravity": 9.81}, {"gun": "DT MDR", "cartridge": "5.56x45mm", "rounds": "M855", "velocity_ms": 922, "Building": "Minillas South Tower", "BuildingHeight": 244, "gravity": 9.81}, {"gun": "DT MDR", "cartridge": "5.56x45mm", "rounds": "M855A1", "velocity_ms": 945, "Building": "Minillas South Tower", "BuildingHeight": 244, "gravity": 9.81}, {"gun": "DT MDR", "cartridge": "5.56x45mm", "rounds": "M856", "velocity_ms": 874, "Building": "Minillas South Tower", "BuildingHeight": 244, "gravity": 9.81}] \ No newline at end of file +[{"gun": "DT MDR", "cartridge": "5.56x45mm", "rounds": "HP", "velocity_ms": 947, "Building": "Minillas South Tower", "BuildingHeight": 244, "gravity": 9.81}, {"gun": "DT MDR", "cartridge": "5.56x45mm", "rounds": "FMJ", "velocity_ms": 957, "Building": "Minillas South Tower", "BuildingHeight": 244, "gravity": 9.81}, {"gun": "DT MDR", "cartridge": "5.56x45mm", "rounds": "M855", "velocity_ms": 922, "Building": "Minillas South Tower", "BuildingHeight": 244, "gravity": 9.81}, {"gun": "DT MDR", "cartridge": "5.56x45mm", "rounds": "M855A1", "velocity_ms": 945, "Building": "Minillas South Tower", "BuildingHeight": 244, "gravity": 9.81}, {"gun": "DT MDR", "cartridge": "5.56x45mm", "rounds": "M856", "velocity_ms": 874, "Building": "Minillas South Tower", "BuildingHeight": 244, "planets": 11.15}] \ No newline at end of file From 43bfb56aaf136248eca93585af7b9b8f0f56a7be Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Mon, 15 Nov 2021 15:16:54 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 28/50] projects and module 6 FINAL UPDATE!!!!!!!! --- Modules/Module6/Module6.md | 17 +++++++++++++---- Projects/Projectile-Motion/ExperimentalData.py | 4 ++-- .../Projectile-Motion/Projectile-Motion.PNG | Bin 0 -> 78020 bytes .../Projectile-Motion/Projectile-Motion.json | 2 +- ...rojectileMotion.py => Projectile-Motion.py} | 9 +++++---- 5 files changed, 21 insertions(+), 11 deletions(-) create mode 100644 Projects/Projectile-Motion/Projectile-Motion.PNG rename Projects/Projectile-Motion/{Daniel-Cintron-ProjectileMotion.py => Projectile-Motion.py} (91%) diff --git a/Modules/Module6/Module6.md b/Modules/Module6/Module6.md index 64e56d939..84eb4d278 100644 --- a/Modules/Module6/Module6.md +++ b/Modules/Module6/Module6.md @@ -82,23 +82,32 @@ myObject = ExperimentData(**experimentJson) What does JSON Stand for? - - Answer: + - Answer: It stands for Java Script Object Notation Why are JSON formats important? - - Answer: + - Answer: Its important because its a tool that can share data like audio and video Create an example of a JSON object with at least 4 values. It may represent anything but it must be original. - Answer: + The perfect hamburger + # experimentationData = { + +# "cheese" : "American", +# "meat : "medium rare", +# "sauce" : "mayonese", +# "bud" : Pan pepin, + +# } What is the difference between serialization and deserialization? - - Answer: + - Answer: The difference is that serialization converts an object into string, and deserialization does the opposite it converts string into object. Research data persistance. What did you find? - - Answer: + - Answer: I found that data persistence is the continuance of an effect after its cause is removed. 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zO5*Eb|I~ty_H-}^49bFwUWOvz#Ka6iw(Q-(Xz8!x1sJ>?SJ6hRJghZF(&b-*yDb58 z96Jd-6a8-OXS7uJY-lQxy@i<%~yV<&Am^7|7 z+K0c@nk@tkqk^X!b|Yl$Rb9qiwNwTiBdkdX6Rn%$@h}mc%sh7nIoE`>$q?NbY?9eu zbxD4IE^=jNAZmxetuY*k z5zp=Bs^(9!_jqh;r~D{pR33WZ Date: Thu, 20 Jan 2022 14:57:42 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 29/50] first update --- Cigar-party.py | 4 ++ Modules/Module4/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py | 68 +++++++++++++++++++++++ 2 files changed, 72 insertions(+) create mode 100644 Cigar-party.py create mode 100644 Modules/Module4/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py diff --git a/Cigar-party.py b/Cigar-party.py new file mode 100644 index 000000000..c604a6fd8 --- /dev/null +++ b/Cigar-party.py @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +def cigar_party(cigars, is_weekend): + if is_weekend == True and cigars >= 1: + print("succesful") +elif \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/Modules/Module4/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py b/Modules/Module4/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py new file mode 100644 index 000000000..929a9b6b9 --- /dev/null +++ b/Modules/Module4/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py @@ -0,0 +1,68 @@ +import random +word_list = ["Internet","Asopao","Accesar","Beeper","Gabete","Data","Dron","Lonchera","Matrés","Ponchar"] + +def display_hangman(tries): + stages = [""" + -------- + | | + | O + | /|\ + | | + | / \ + + """ + """ + -------- + | | + | O + | /|\ + | | + | / \ + + """ + """ + -------- + | | + | O + | /|\ + | | + | / \ + + """ + """ + -------- + | | + | O + | /|\ + | | + | / \ + + """ + """ + -------- + | | + | O + | /|\ + | | + | / \ + + """ + """ + -------- + | | + | O + | /|\ + | | + | / \ + + """ + """ + -------- + | | + | O + | /|\ + | | + | / \ + + """ + "] \ No newline at end of file From e2cfa2cf63d2ea11b2ca039f19bf9e406a3214db Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Thu, 20 Jan 2022 21:29:01 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 30/50] Update Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py --- Modules/Module4/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py | 22 +++++++++++----------- 1 file changed, 11 insertions(+), 11 deletions(-) diff --git a/Modules/Module4/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py b/Modules/Module4/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py index 929a9b6b9..156158fff 100644 --- a/Modules/Module4/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py +++ b/Modules/Module4/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py @@ -15,7 +15,7 @@ def display_hangman(tries): -------- | | | O - | /|\ + | /| | | | / \ @@ -24,7 +24,7 @@ def display_hangman(tries): -------- | | | O - | /|\ + | | | | | / \ @@ -33,36 +33,36 @@ def display_hangman(tries): -------- | | | O - | /|\ | | - | / \ + | | + | / """ """ -------- | | | O - | /|\ | | - | / \ + | | + | """ """ -------- | | | O - | /|\ | | - | / \ + | + | """ """ -------- | | | O - | /|\ - | | - | / \ + | + | + | """ "] \ No newline at end of file From 28a0ae57403fa495069e313b172e96845fec7e70 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Mon, 24 Jan 2022 14:47:02 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 31/50] Update --- Cigar-party.py => Projects/Cigar-party.py | 0 .../Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py | 47 ++++++++++++++++--- 2 files changed, 40 insertions(+), 7 deletions(-) rename Cigar-party.py => Projects/Cigar-party.py (100%) rename {Modules/Module4 => Projects}/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py (60%) diff --git a/Cigar-party.py b/Projects/Cigar-party.py similarity index 100% rename from Cigar-party.py rename to Projects/Cigar-party.py diff --git a/Modules/Module4/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py b/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py similarity index 60% rename from Modules/Module4/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py rename to Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py index 156158fff..271ef23df 100644 --- a/Modules/Module4/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py +++ b/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py @@ -1,6 +1,38 @@ import random word_list = ["Internet","Asopao","Accesar","Beeper","Gabete","Data","Dron","Lonchera","Matrés","Ponchar"] +def get_word(word_list): + word = random.choice(word_list) + return word.upper() + +def play(word): + word_completion = "_" * len(word) + guessed = False + guessed_letters = [] + guessed_words = [] + tries = 6 + print("Lets play Hangman") + print("Theme: Puertoriqueñismos") + print(display_hangman(tries)) + print(word_completion) + print("\n") + while not guessed and tries < 0: + guess = input("Guess a letter or word: ").upper() + if len (guess) == 1 and guess.isalpha(): + if guess in guessed_letters: + print("You already tried", guess, "!") + elif guess not in word: + print(guess, "Isn't in the word :(") + tries -= 1 + guessed_letters.append(guess) + else: + print("Nice one", guess, "is in the word") + guessed_letters.append(guess) + + + + + def display_hangman(tries): stages = [""" -------- @@ -10,7 +42,7 @@ def display_hangman(tries): | | | / \ - """ + """, """ -------- | | @@ -19,7 +51,7 @@ def display_hangman(tries): | | | / \ - """ + """, """ -------- | | @@ -28,7 +60,7 @@ def display_hangman(tries): | | | / \ - """ + """, """ -------- | | @@ -37,7 +69,7 @@ def display_hangman(tries): | | | / - """ + """, """ -------- | | @@ -46,7 +78,7 @@ def display_hangman(tries): | | | - """ + """, """ -------- | | @@ -55,7 +87,7 @@ def display_hangman(tries): | | - """ + """, """ -------- | | @@ -65,4 +97,5 @@ def display_hangman(tries): | """ - "] \ No newline at end of file + + ] \ No newline at end of file From 042fb3a79fefbbbdc58624bca19d693bedbb5ffe Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Mon, 24 Jan 2022 14:51:32 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 32/50] Update Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py --- Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py | 2 +- 1 file changed, 1 insertion(+), 1 deletion(-) diff --git a/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py b/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py index 271ef23df..f57f86dbb 100644 --- a/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py +++ b/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py @@ -1,5 +1,5 @@ import random -word_list = ["Internet","Asopao","Accesar","Beeper","Gabete","Data","Dron","Lonchera","Matrés","Ponchar"] +word_list = ["Estofón","Asopao","Accesar","Beeper","Gabete","Babosería","Dron","Lonchera","Chavar","Ponchar"] def get_word(word_list): word = random.choice(word_list) From 1f9129bc0fa4a969008804735c7276fa3f1b7c3d Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Tue, 1 Feb 2022 10:47:30 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 33/50] Update Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py --- Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py | 96 +++++++++++++++++++++--------- 1 file changed, 67 insertions(+), 29 deletions(-) diff --git a/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py b/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py index f57f86dbb..fe090df7b 100644 --- a/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py +++ b/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py @@ -1,33 +1,60 @@ import random -word_list = ["Estofón","Asopao","Accesar","Beeper","Gabete","Babosería","Dron","Lonchera","Chavar","Ponchar"] +word_list = ["Estofón","Asopao","Guachafita","Bibí","Gabete","Babosería","Dron","Lonchera","Chavar","Ponchar"] def get_word(word_list): - word = random.choice(word_list) - return word.upper() + word = random.choice(word_list) + return word.upper() def play(word): - word_completion = "_" * len(word) - guessed = False - guessed_letters = [] - guessed_words = [] - tries = 6 - print("Lets play Hangman") - print("Theme: Puertoriqueñismos") - print(display_hangman(tries)) - print(word_completion) - print("\n") - while not guessed and tries < 0: - guess = input("Guess a letter or word: ").upper() - if len (guess) == 1 and guess.isalpha(): - if guess in guessed_letters: - print("You already tried", guess, "!") - elif guess not in word: - print(guess, "Isn't in the word :(") - tries -= 1 - guessed_letters.append(guess) - else: - print("Nice one", guess, "is in the word") - guessed_letters.append(guess) + word_completion = "-" * len(word) + guessed = False + guessed_letters = [] + guessed_words = [] + tries = 6 + print("Let's play Hangman") + print("Theme: Puertorriqueñismos") + print(display_hangman(tries)) + print(word_completion) + print("\n") + while not guessed and tries > 0: + guess = input("Guess a letter or word").upper() + if len(guess) == 1 and guess.isalpha(): + if guess in guessed_letters: + print("You already tried", guess, "!") + elif guess not in word: + print("Isn't in the word :(") + tries -= 1 + guessed_letters.append(guess) + else: + print("Nice one", guess, "is in the word!") + guessed_letters.append(guess) + word_as_list = list(word_completion) + indices = [i for i, letter in enumerate(word) if letter == guess] + for index in indices: + word_as_list[index] = guess + word_completion = "".join(word_as_list) + if "-" not in word_completion: + guessed = True + elif len(guess) == len(word) and guess.isalpha(): + if guess in guessed_words: + print("You already tried", guess, "!") + elif guess != word: + print(guess, "Is not the word :(") + tries -= 1 + guessed_words.append(guess) + else: + guessed = True + word_completion = word + else: + print("Invalid input") + print(display_hangman(tries)) + print(word_completion) + print("\n") + + if guessed: + print("Good job, you guessed the word!!! :)") + else: + print("I'm sorry, but you ran out of tries. The word was" + word + "Maybe next time!") @@ -38,7 +65,7 @@ def display_hangman(tries): -------- | | | O - | /|\ + | /|\\ | | | / \ @@ -83,7 +110,7 @@ def display_hangman(tries): -------- | | | O - | | + | | | @@ -91,11 +118,22 @@ def display_hangman(tries): """ -------- | | - | O + | | | | """ - ] \ No newline at end of file + ] + return stages[tries] + +def main(): + word = get_word(word_list) + play(word) + while input("Again? (Y/N)").upper() == "Y": + word = get_word(word_list) + play(word) + +if __name__ == "__main__": + main() \ No newline at end of file From bbe7403cd55cabf6a57634ddff76bc20e43188be Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Tue, 1 Feb 2022 14:13:37 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 34/50] Update Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py --- Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py | 4 ++-- 1 file changed, 2 insertions(+), 2 deletions(-) diff --git a/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py b/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py index fe090df7b..22b8bad9a 100644 --- a/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py +++ b/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py @@ -52,9 +52,9 @@ def play(word): print("\n") if guessed: - print("Good job, you guessed the word!!! :)") + print("Good job, your not a loser!!! :)") else: - print("I'm sorry, but you ran out of tries. The word was" + word + "Maybe next time!") + print("I'm sorry, but you ran out of tries. The word was" + word + "Get a life!") From adcf3c221b005a14d0b0e27281d68e2fd87bf163 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Tue, 1 Feb 2022 14:51:12 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 35/50] Update Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py --- Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py | 8 ++++---- 1 file changed, 4 insertions(+), 4 deletions(-) diff --git a/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py b/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py index 22b8bad9a..68526a6d9 100644 --- a/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py +++ b/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Hangman.py @@ -122,10 +122,10 @@ def display_hangman(tries): | | | - - """ - - ] + - + """ + ] + return stages[tries] def main(): From e4733e10508e2eb4978fae3c4c7e0f07f59a1952 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Mon, 7 Feb 2022 14:55:31 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 36/50] Create Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py --- Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py | 7 +++++++ 1 file changed, 7 insertions(+) create mode 100644 Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py diff --git a/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py b/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py new file mode 100644 index 000000000..e5d67daca --- /dev/null +++ b/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py @@ -0,0 +1,7 @@ +#create the screen +import pygame +pygame.init() +dis= pygame.display.set_mode((400, 300)) +pygame.display.update() +pygame.quit() +quit() \ No newline at end of file From 2c67fc641d984df58c038f3513e8b9dd76ca4d81 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Wed, 9 Feb 2022 18:40:35 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 37/50] Update Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py --- Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py | 19 ++++++++++++++++++- 1 file changed, 18 insertions(+), 1 deletion(-) diff --git a/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py b/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py index e5d67daca..b88ddf262 100644 --- a/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py +++ b/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py @@ -1,7 +1,24 @@ -#create the screen import pygame pygame.init() + +red = (230, 44, 13) #score +orange = (255, 185, 10) #food +purple = (178, 17, 194) #background color +green = (124, 255, 10) #snake +black = (0, 0, 0) + +black = (0,0,0) #game over + dis= pygame.display.set_mode((400, 300)) pygame.display.update() +pygame.display.set_caption("The Snake GAME") +game_over=False +while not game_over: + for event in pygame.event.get(): + if event.type==pygame.QUIT: + game_over=True + pygame.draw.rect(dis, green,[200, 150, 10, 10]) + pygame.display.update() + pygame.quit() quit() \ No newline at end of file From 5bce2a757390fb28287c52a5da8fe24dae8ef5b7 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Thu, 17 Feb 2022 15:04:00 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 38/50] Update Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py --- Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py | 38 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++----- 1 file changed, 33 insertions(+), 5 deletions(-) diff --git a/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py b/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py index b88ddf262..ef47475a5 100644 --- a/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py +++ b/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py @@ -5,20 +5,48 @@ orange = (255, 185, 10) #food purple = (178, 17, 194) #background color green = (124, 255, 10) #snake -black = (0, 0, 0) - -black = (0,0,0) #game over +black = (0, 0, 0) #game over dis= pygame.display.set_mode((400, 300)) + pygame.display.update() pygame.display.set_caption("The Snake GAME") game_over=False + +x1 = 200 +y1 = 150 + +x1_change = 0 +y1_change = 0 + +clock = pygame.time.Clock() + + while not game_over: for event in pygame.event.get(): if event.type==pygame.QUIT: game_over=True - pygame.draw.rect(dis, green,[200, 150, 10, 10]) - pygame.display.update() + if event.type == pygame.KEYDOWN: + if event.key == pygame.K_LEFT: + x1_change = -10 + y1_change = 0 + elif event.key == pygame.K_RIGHT: + x1_change = 10 + y1_change = 0 + elif event.key == pygame.K_UP: + x1_change = 0 + y1_change = -10 + elif event.key == pygame.K_DOWN: + x1_change = 10 + y1_change = 0 + + x1 += x1_change + y1 += y1_change + dis.fill(purple) + pygame.draw.rect(dis, green,[x1, y1, 10, 10]) + + pygame.display.update() + clock.tick(30) pygame.quit() quit() \ No newline at end of file From b4f724a6eb723d2464d8a32e75bc6e44e2638df4 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Thu, 24 Feb 2022 15:05:55 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 39/50] Update Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py --- Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py | 84 ++++++++++++++++++++++---------- 1 file changed, 58 insertions(+), 26 deletions(-) diff --git a/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py b/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py index ef47475a5..43b8bf13e 100644 --- a/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py +++ b/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py @@ -1,3 +1,4 @@ +import time import pygame pygame.init() @@ -7,46 +8,77 @@ green = (124, 255, 10) #snake black = (0, 0, 0) #game over -dis= pygame.display.set_mode((400, 300)) +dis_width = 400 +dis_height = 300 +dis= pygame.display.set_mode((dis_width, dis_height)) pygame.display.update() pygame.display.set_caption("The Snake GAME") game_over=False -x1 = 200 -y1 = 150 +clock = pygame.time.Clock() +snake_speed = 30 +snake_block = 10 + +font_style = pygame.font.SysFont(None, 50) + +def message(msg, color): + mesg = font_style.render(msg, True ,color) + dis.blit(mesg, [dis_width/8, dis_height/4]) + +def gameLoop (): + game_over = False + game_close = False + +x1 = dis_width/2.1 #width where cube is +y1 = dis_height/2.5 #height where cube is x1_change = 0 y1_change = 0 -clock = pygame.time.Clock() + while not game_over: + while game_close == True: + dis.fill(purple) + message("HAHA, YOU LOST! Press Q-Quit or P-Play Again", black) + pygame.display.update() + + for event in pygame.event.get(): + if event.type==pygame.KEYDOWN: + if event.key == pygame.K_q: + game_over = True + game_close = False + if event.key == pygame.K_p: + gameLoop() -while not game_over: - for event in pygame.event.get(): - if event.type==pygame.QUIT: - game_over=True - if event.type == pygame.KEYDOWN: - if event.key == pygame.K_LEFT: - x1_change = -10 - y1_change = 0 - elif event.key == pygame.K_RIGHT: - x1_change = 10 - y1_change = 0 - elif event.key == pygame.K_UP: - x1_change = 0 - y1_change = -10 - elif event.key == pygame.K_DOWN: - x1_change = 10 - y1_change = 0 - - x1 += x1_change + for event in pygame.event.get(): + if event.type==pygame.QUIT: + game_over=True + if event.type == pygame.KEYDOWN: + if event.key == pygame.K_LEFT: + x1_change = -snake_block + y1_change = 0 + elif event.key == pygame.K_RIGHT: + x1_change = snake_block + y1_change = 0 + elif event.key == pygame.K_UP: + x1_change = 0 + y1_change = -10 + elif event.key == pygame.K_DOWN: + x1_change = 0 + y1_change = snake_block + if x1 >= dis_width or x1 < 0 or y1 >= dis_height or y1 <0: + game_over = True + x1 += x1_change y1 += y1_change dis.fill(purple) - pygame.draw.rect(dis, green,[x1, y1, 10, 10]) + pygame.draw.rect(dis, green,[x1, y1, snake_block, snake_block]) pygame.display.update() - clock.tick(30) + clock.tick(snake_speed) + + + pygame.quit() -quit() \ No newline at end of file +quit() From 89489d19da83176b912ba22687cb5d5c49584b30 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Mon, 28 Feb 2022 15:13:25 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 40/50] Update Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py --- Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py | 58 ++++++++++++++++++++++++-------- 1 file changed, 44 insertions(+), 14 deletions(-) diff --git a/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py b/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py index 43b8bf13e..532b4ad01 100644 --- a/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py +++ b/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py @@ -1,4 +1,5 @@ import time +import random import pygame pygame.init() @@ -17,10 +18,13 @@ game_over=False clock = pygame.time.Clock() -snake_speed = 30 +snake_speed = 15 snake_block = 10 -font_style = pygame.font.SysFont(None, 50) +font_style = pygame.font.SysFont(None, 25) +def my_snake(snake_block, snake_list): + for x in snake_list: + pygame.draw.rect(dis, green, [x[0], x[1], snake_block, snake_block]) def message(msg, color): mesg = font_style.render(msg, True ,color) @@ -30,12 +34,17 @@ def gameLoop (): game_over = False game_close = False -x1 = dis_width/2.1 #width where cube is -y1 = dis_height/2.5 #height where cube is + x1 = dis_width/2.1 #width where cube is + y1 = dis_height/2.5 #height where cube is -x1_change = 0 -y1_change = 0 + x1_change = 0 + y1_change = 0 + snake_List = [] + length_of_snake = 1 + + foodx = round(random.randrange(0, dis_width - snake_block) / 10) *10 + foody = round(random.randrange(0, dis_height - snake_block) / 10) *10 while not game_over: while game_close == True: @@ -48,7 +57,7 @@ def gameLoop (): if event.key == pygame.K_q: game_over = True game_close = False - if event.key == pygame.K_p: + if event.key == pygame.K_p: gameLoop() for event in pygame.event.get(): @@ -67,18 +76,39 @@ def gameLoop (): elif event.key == pygame.K_DOWN: x1_change = 0 y1_change = snake_block - if x1 >= dis_width or x1 < 0 or y1 >= dis_height or y1 <0: - game_over = True - x1 += x1_change + if x1 >= dis_width or x1 < 0 or y1 >= dis_height or y1 <0: + game_close = True + + x1 += x1_change y1 += y1_change dis.fill(purple) - pygame.draw.rect(dis, green,[x1, y1, snake_block, snake_block]) + pygame.draw.rect(dis, orange,[foodx, foody, snake_block, snake_block]) + # pygame.draw.rect(dis, green,[x1, y1, snake_block, snake_block]) + snake_head = [] + snake_head.append(x1) + snake_head.append(y1) + snake_List.append(snake_head) + if len(snake_List) > length_of_snake: + del snake_List[0] + + for x in snake_List[:-1]: + if x == snake_head: + game_close == True + + my_snake(snake_block, snake_List) pygame.display.update() - clock.tick(snake_speed) + if x1 == foodx and y1 == foody: + foodx = round(random.randrange(0, dis_width - snake_block) / 10) *10 + foody = round(random.randrange(0, dis_height - snake_block) / 10) *10 + length_of_snake += 1 + + clock.tick(snake_speed) + + pygame.quit() + quit() -pygame.quit() -quit() +gameLoop() From ac145f246ec5bd23c4939b611cf6fe9c71a8d330 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Fri, 4 Mar 2022 14:30:36 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 41/50] Update Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py --- Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py | 7 +++++++ 1 file changed, 7 insertions(+) diff --git a/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py b/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py index 532b4ad01..8be31f6a6 100644 --- a/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py +++ b/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py @@ -90,6 +90,7 @@ def gameLoop (): snake_List.append(snake_head) if len(snake_List) > length_of_snake: del snake_List[0] + My_Score(length_of_snake -1) for x in snake_List[:-1]: if x == snake_head: @@ -106,7 +107,13 @@ def gameLoop (): clock.tick(snake_speed) +score_font = pygame.font.SysFont(None,25) +def My_Score(score): + value = score_font.render("Your Score:" + str(score), True, red) + dis.blit(value, [0,0]) + + pygame.quit() quit() From 8b5410c284d598ecf12c0e905dd39ba4f4e606a9 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Fri, 4 Mar 2022 14:45:04 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 42/50] Update Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py --- Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py | 16 ++++++++-------- 1 file changed, 8 insertions(+), 8 deletions(-) diff --git a/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py b/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py index 8be31f6a6..a52b4cced 100644 --- a/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py +++ b/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py @@ -1,6 +1,6 @@ -import time import random import pygame +import time pygame.init() red = (230, 44, 13) #score @@ -9,8 +9,8 @@ green = (124, 255, 10) #snake black = (0, 0, 0) #game over -dis_width = 400 -dis_height = 300 +dis_width = 600 +dis_height = 400 dis= pygame.display.set_mode((dis_width, dis_height)) pygame.display.update() @@ -30,7 +30,7 @@ def message(msg, color): mesg = font_style.render(msg, True ,color) dis.blit(mesg, [dis_width/8, dis_height/4]) -def gameLoop (): +def gameRestart (): game_over = False game_close = False @@ -58,7 +58,7 @@ def gameLoop (): game_over = True game_close = False if event.key == pygame.K_p: - gameLoop() + gameRestart() for event in pygame.event.get(): if event.type==pygame.QUIT: @@ -113,9 +113,9 @@ def My_Score(score): value = score_font.render("Your Score:" + str(score), True, red) dis.blit(value, [0,0]) - - + # pygame.display.update + # time.sleep(5) pygame.quit() quit() -gameLoop() +gameRestart() From 41a41217a5309e1b8e28ad94df44faec6fe46c46 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Tue, 8 Mar 2022 14:25:39 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 43/50] Update Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py --- Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py | 10 +++++++--- 1 file changed, 7 insertions(+), 3 deletions(-) diff --git a/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py b/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py index a52b4cced..95231ad82 100644 --- a/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py +++ b/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py @@ -22,6 +22,8 @@ snake_block = 10 font_style = pygame.font.SysFont(None, 25) +score_font = pygame.font.SysFont(None, 25) + def my_snake(snake_block, snake_list): for x in snake_list: pygame.draw.rect(dis, green, [x[0], x[1], snake_block, snake_block]) @@ -90,13 +92,14 @@ def gameRestart (): snake_List.append(snake_head) if len(snake_List) > length_of_snake: del snake_List[0] - My_Score(length_of_snake -1) - + for x in snake_List[:-1]: if x == snake_head: game_close == True my_snake(snake_block, snake_List) + My_Score(length_of_snake -1) + pygame.display.update() @@ -107,7 +110,8 @@ def gameRestart (): clock.tick(snake_speed) -score_font = pygame.font.SysFont(None,25) + font_style = pygame.font.SysFont(None,25) + score_font = pygame.font.SysFont(None,25) def My_Score(score): value = score_font.render("Your Score:" + str(score), True, red) From 06392d675796e64d48e646c3103342d390473eb5 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Tue, 8 Mar 2022 21:27:50 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 44/50] Update Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py --- Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py | 7 ++++--- 1 file changed, 4 insertions(+), 3 deletions(-) diff --git a/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py b/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py index 95231ad82..b49f34d42 100644 --- a/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py +++ b/Projects/Daniel-Cintron-Snake.py @@ -24,6 +24,10 @@ font_style = pygame.font.SysFont(None, 25) score_font = pygame.font.SysFont(None, 25) +def My_Score(score): + value = score_font.render("Your Score:" + str(score), True, red) + dis.blit(value, [0,0]) + def my_snake(snake_block, snake_list): for x in snake_list: pygame.draw.rect(dis, green, [x[0], x[1], snake_block, snake_block]) @@ -113,9 +117,6 @@ def gameRestart (): font_style = pygame.font.SysFont(None,25) score_font = pygame.font.SysFont(None,25) -def My_Score(score): - value = score_font.render("Your Score:" + str(score), True, red) - dis.blit(value, [0,0]) # pygame.display.update # time.sleep(5) From 1647fbf3ce456fe1f128a19cd4b0ea0128579ba4 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Mon, 14 Mar 2022 14:57:11 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 45/50] =?UTF-8?q?Create=20Web-Scraping01-Daniel-Cintr?= =?UTF-8?q?=C3=B3n.PNG?= MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=UTF-8 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit --- .../Web-Scraping01-Daniel-Cintr\303\263n.PNG" | Bin 0 -> 27569 bytes 1 file changed, 0 insertions(+), 0 deletions(-) create mode 100644 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8{tx&atv1XG;Q! zo+iM0MP%11!g{3kxM9+O&f3z@_w6%Pl~v}D4_(%(=z%Z!YRJ(w2c^j#EL2SzIK@9S zF`Rgc>2Y*J#vSwA7_cf&GpiaiL6kWxrL}lm=9=AGanv+j6*K4EblkPAVmb-}J**dxhBhZp0F+V8G2fuj0Ur99cw zm25_=4^ryw?RU+|_w{!V^g63kw-idhzj^?&)(&puSn2CDi`@dPnCPoq(ONLJmQz%c zIb$vQa=^uIz&56?bv?2SNsneP?f0nEur|EGR= zEaYp{t#kuBcfVLC>i}E11YW{K)=5(7myX&>&e~2Vq6w!up|zdj8v7dca|5exl~77+$ zS!CkK2TFoQcS#yLwT1gp#b;xGlUbDx$iK?F0gs3m3M}m9{-IjGrs*ah0z^UI41b&| z_?2)+Ic@cKw%xC`*l#wP?=wP3jGZS2vk#TxBS%w4^5krr7cPy-qWW^=J>b`f;~(4V z9H_1aL+AIp>i zn%dzaWM-haz`n9bxU(5~n0<6)*wHeRl)sg{^f-Q^r~keEL>~3mNW$X#=6+LyM`Yg; zG=6B{Vib{87m(NgbeVJcj9_)wUed}3l}ZeOWgA1(5GFz@4oQkpFEQMc?dg>AC7k&T znD)k;yJ2o#2T-7^(h(U!R0icBYu)zi^;D} zs;R1QF|+K@6}p^Z71x;puN;g{#VeU`jB5)Vt&BF}%va;0m0Ti5n*C~0=kH~|U43WI z^QySidrMP?;o7R6sMU0#?}^edmI+Enx2^;@{x(^3At_kVfdO7?L2)9Nk01DQVS3O3uy# zS;hDb2I?7yS~7SgPHN${oq-`yn$h6L+n{>@#C&fvbOM<5xozHDsII*HPfamEp*yLs z>9n_2((A*3qzneK?ISdYcEMW;iE&6T{-@T#ra4h1Cg*b6G)tJhE^D&JZ>e;0o-U#b zWZ(aIzlwgr^x!{z@V~_1|9m0T>()P*;FN>^TFLsat{4AnZiznh3mX}vE%UO1+i$#$ S4;+(q{EDUhCCbGgfBrv;d9_Ob literal 0 HcmV?d00001 From c2ff11791f8ef4495ec8a18673fd132d75c62d52 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Wed, 16 Mar 2022 15:10:20 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 46/50] update --- Los Caciques.text | 9571 +++++++++++++++++ Projects/Web-Scraping/The Treasure Trail | 9571 +++++++++++++++++ .../Webscraping02-Daniel-Cintr\303\263n.py" | 7 + 3 files changed, 19149 insertions(+) create mode 100644 Los Caciques.text create mode 100644 Projects/Web-Scraping/The Treasure Trail create mode 100644 "Projects/Web-Scraping/Webscraping02-Daniel-Cintr\303\263n.py" diff --git a/Los Caciques.text b/Los Caciques.text new file mode 100644 index 000000000..df3ba6fd8 --- /dev/null +++ b/Los Caciques.text @@ -0,0 +1,9571 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Treasure Trail, by Frank L. Pollock + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you +will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before +using this eBook. + +Title: The Treasure Trail + +Author: Frank L. Pollock + +Illustrator: Louis D. Gowing + +Release Date: March 13, 2022 [eBook #67627] + +Language: English + +Produced by: Roger Frank and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at + https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from images + made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.) + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TREASURE TRAIL *** + + + + + + THE TREASURE TRAIL + + +[Illustration: “Suddenly Sullivan stood up jerkily on the deck.”] + + + + + The Treasure Trail + + BY + FRANK L. POLLOCK + + With a Frontispiece in Colour by + Louis D. Gowing + + Boston L. C. PAGE & COMPANY + MDCCCCVI + + + + + Copyright, 1906 + By L. C. Page & Company + (INCORPORATED) + + All rights reserved + + First Impression, May, 1906 + + COLONIAL PRESS + Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co. + Boston, U.S.A. + + + + + CONTENTS + + I. The New Leaf + II. The Open Road + III. The Adventurer + IV. The Fate of the Treasure Ship + V. The Ace of Diamonds + VI. The Mystery of the Mate + VII. The Indiscretion of Henninger + VIII. The Man from Alabama + IX. On the Trail + X. A Lost Clue + XI. Illumination + XII. Open War + XIII. First Blood + XIV. The Clue Found + XV. The Other Way Round the World + XVI. The End of the Trail + XVII. The Treasure + XVIII. The Battle on the Lagoon + XIX. The Second Wreck + XX. The Rainbow Road + + + + + THE TREASURE TRAIL + + + + + CHAPTER I. THE NEW LEAF + + +“Lord! what a haul!” Elliott murmured to himself, glancing over his +letter while he waited with the horses for Margaret, who had said that +she would be just twelve minutes in putting on her riding-costume. The +letter was from an old-time Colorado acquaintance who was then +superintending a Transvaal gold mine, and, probably by reason of the +exigencies of war, the epistle had taken over two months to come from +Pretoria. Elliott had been able to peruse it only by snatches, for the +pinto horse with the side-saddle was fidgety, communicating its +uneasiness to his own mount. + +“And managed to loot the treasury of over a million in gold, they say, +and got away with it all. The regular members of the Treasury +Department were at the front, I suppose, with green hands in their +places,” he read. + +It was a great haul, indeed. Elliott glanced absently along the muddy +street of the Nebraska capital, and his face hardened into an +expression that was not usual. It was on the whole a good-looking +face, deeply tanned, with a pleasant mouth and a small yellowish +moustache that lent a boyishness to his whole countenance, belied by +the mesh of fine lines about the eyes that come only of years upon the +great plains. The eyes were gray, keen, and alive with a spirit of +enterprise that might go the length of recklessness; and their owner +was, in fact, reflecting rather bitterly that during the past ten +years all his enterprises had been too reckless, or perhaps not +reckless enough. He had not had the convictions of his courage. The +story of the stealings of a ring of Boer ex-officials had made him +momentarily regret his own passable honesty; and it struck him that in +his present strait he would not care to meet the temptation of even +less than a million in gold, with a reasonable chance of getting away +with it. + +This subjective dishonesty was cut short by Margaret, who hurried down +the veranda steps, holding up her brown riding-skirt. She surveyed the +pinto with critical consideration. + +“Warranted not to pitch,” Elliott remarked. “The livery-stable man +said a child could ride him.” + +“You’d better take him, then. I don’t want him,” retorted Margaret + +“This one may be even more domestic. What in the world are you going +to do with that gun?” + +“Don’t let Aunt Louisa see it; she’s looking out the window,” implored +Margaret, her eyes dancing. “I want to shoot when we get out of town. +Put it in your pocket, please,—that’s against the law, you know. +You’re not afraid of the law, are you?” + +“I am, indeed. I’ve seen it work,” Elliott replied; but he slipped the +black, serviceable revolver into his hip pocket, and reined round to +follow her. She had scrambled into the saddle without assistance, and +was already twenty yards down the street, scampering away at a speed +unexpected from the maligned pinto, and she had crossed the Union +Pacific tracks before he overtook her. From that point it was not far +to the prairie fields and the barbed-wire fences. The brown Nebraska +plains rolled undulating in scallops against the clear horizon; in the +rear the great State House dome began to disengage itself from a mass +of bare branches. The road was of black, half-dried muck, the potent +black earth of the wheat belt, without a pebble in it, and deep ruts +showed where wagons had sunk hub-deep a few days before. + +A fresh wind blew in their faces, coming strong and pure from the +leagues and leagues of moist March prairie, full of the thrill of +spring. Riding a little in the rear, Elliott watched it flutter the +brown curls under Margaret’s grey felt hat, creased in rakish +affectation of the cow-puncher’s fashion. Now that he was about to +lose her, he seemed to see her all at once with new eyes, and all at +once he realized how much her companionship had meant to him during +these past six months in Lincoln,—a half-year that had just come to so +disastrous an end. + +Margaret Laurie lived with her aunt on T Street, and gave lessons in +piano and vocal music at seventy-five cents an hour. Her mother had +been dead so long that Elliott had never heard her mentioned; the +father was a Methodist missionary in foreign parts. During the whole +winter Elliott had seen her almost daily. They had walked together, +ridden together, skated together when there was ice, and had fired off +some twenty boxes of cartridges at pistol practice, for which +diversion Margaret had a pronounced aptitude as well as taste. She had +taught him something of good music, and he confided to her the +vicissitudes of the real estate business in a city where a boom is +trembling between inflation and premature extinction. It had all been +as stimulating as it had been delightful; and part of its charm lay in +the fact that there had always been the frankest camaraderie between +them, and nothing else. Elliott wished for nothing else; he told +himself that he had known enough of the love of women to value a +woman’s friendship. But on this last ride together he felt as if +saturated with failure—and it was to be the last ride. + +Margaret broke in upon his meditations. “Please give me the gun,” she +commanded. “And if it’s not too much trouble, I wish you’d get one of +those empty tomato-cans by the road.” + +“You can’t hit it,” ventured Elliott, as he dismounted and tossed the +can high in the air. The pistol banged, but the can fell untouched, +and the pinto pony capered at the report. + +“Better let me hold your horse for you,” Elliott commented, with a +grin. + +“No, thank you,” she retorted, setting her teeth. “Now,—throw it up +again.” + +This time, at the crack of the revolver, the can leaped a couple of +feet higher, and as it poised she hit it again. Two more shots missed, +and the pinto, becoming uncontrollable, bolted down the road, +scattering the black earth in great flakes. Elliott galloped in +pursuit, but she was perfectly capable of reducing the animal to +submission, and she had him subjected before he overtook her. + +“It’s easier than it looks,” Margaret instructed him, kindly. “You +shoot when the can poises to fall, when it’s really stationary for a +second.” + +“Thank you—I’ve tried it,” Elliott responded, as they rode on side by +side, at the easy lope of the Western horse. The wind sang in their +ears, though it was warm and sunny, and it was bringing a yellowish +haze up the blue sky. + + “‘Weh, weh, der Wind!’” + +hummed Margaret, softly. + + “‘Frisch weht der Wind der Heimath zu; + Mein Irisch Kind, wo weilest Du——?’” + +“What a truly Western combination,—horses, Wagner, and gun-play!” +remarked Elliott. + +“Of course it is. Where else in the world could you find anything like +it? It’s the Greek ideal—action and culture at once.” + +“It may be Greek. But I know it would startle the Atlantic coast.” + +“I don’t care for the Atlantic coast. Or—yes, I do. I’m going to tell +you a great secret. Do you know what I’ve wanted more than anything +else in life?” + +“Your father must be coming home from the South Seas,” Elliott +hazarded. + +“Dear old father! He isn’t in the South Seas now; he’s in South +Africa. No, it isn’t that. I’m going to Baltimore this fall to study +music. I’ve been arguing it for weeks with Aunt Louisa. I wanted to go +to New York or Boston, but she said the Boston winter would kill me, +and New York was too big and dangerous. So we compromised on +Baltimore.” + +“Hurrah!” said Elliott, with some lack of enthusiasm. “Baltimore is a +delightful town. I used to be a newspaper man there before I came West +and became an adventurer. I wish I were going to anything half so +good.” + +“You’re not leaving Lincoln, are you?” she inquired, turning quickly +to look at him. + +“I’m afraid I must.” + +“When are you going, and where?” she demanded, almost peremptorily. + +“I don’t exactly know. I had thought of trying mining again,” with a +certain air of discouragement. + +Margaret looked the other way, out across the muddy sheet of water +known locally as Salt Lake, where a flock of wild ducks was fluttering +aimlessly over the surface; and she said nothing. + +“I suppose you know that the bottom’s dropped out of the land boom in +Lincoln,” Elliott pursued. “I’ve seen it dropping for a month; in +fact, there never was any real boom at all. Anyhow, the real estate +office of Wingate Elliott, Desirable City Property Bought and Sold, +closed up yesterday.” + +“You don’t mean that you have—” + +“Failed? Busted? I do. I’ve got exactly eighty-two dollars in the +world.” + +She began to laugh, and then stopped, looking at him +half-incredulously. + +“You don’t appear to mind it much, at least.” + +“No? Well, you see it’s happened so often before that I’m used to it. +Good Lord! it seems to me that I’ve left a trail of ineffectual +dollars all over the West!” + +“You do mind it—a great deal!” exclaimed Margaret, impulsively putting +a hand upon his bridle. “Please tell me all about it. We’re good +friends—the very best, aren’t we?—but you’ve told me hardly anything +about your life.” + +“There’s nothing interesting about it; nothing but looking for easy +money and not finding it,” replied Elliott. He was scrutinizing the +sky ahead. “Don’t you think we had better turn back? Look at those +clouds.” + +The firmament had darkened to the zenith with a livid purple tinge low +in the west, and the wind was blowing in jerky, powerful gusts. A +growl of thunder rumbled overhead. + +“It’s too early for a twister, and I don’t mind rain. I’ve nothing on +that will spoil,” said Margaret, almost abstractedly. She had scarcely +spoken when there was a sharp patter, and then a blast of drops driven +by the wind. A vivid flash split the clouds, and with the +instantaneous thunder the patter of the rain changed to a rattle, and +the black road whitened with hail. The horses plunged as the hard +pellets rebounded from hide and saddle. + +“We must get shelter. The beasts won’t stand this,” cried Elliott, +reining round. The lumps of ice drove in cutting gusts, and the +frightened horses broke into a gallop toward the city. For a few +moments the storm slackened; then a second explosion of thunder seemed +to bring a second fusilade, driving almost horizontally under the +violent wind, stinging like shot. + +Across an unfenced strip of pasture Elliott’s eye fell upon the Salt +Lake spur of the Union Pacific tracks, where a mile of rails is used +for the storage of empty freight-cars. He pulled his horse round and +galloped across the intervening space, with Margaret at his heels, and +in half a minute they had reached the lee of the line of cars, where +there was shelter. He hooked the bridles over the iron handle of a +box-car door that stood open, and scrambled into the car, swinging +Margaret from her saddle to the doorway. + +It was a perfect refuge. The storm rattled like buckshot on the roof +and swept in cloudy pillars across the Salt Lake, where the wild ducks +flew to and fro, quacking from sheer joy, but the car was clean and +dry, slightly dusted with flour. They sat down in the door with their +feet dangling out beside the horses, that shivered and stamped at the +stroke of chance pellets of hail. + +“This is splendid!” said Margaret, looking curiously about the planked +interior of the car. “Why do you want to leave Lincoln?” she went on +in a lower tone, after a pause. + +“I don’t want to leave Lincoln.” + +“But you said just now—” + +“It seems to me, by Jove, that I’ve done nothing but leave places ever +since I came West!” Elliott exclaimed, impatiently. “That was ten +years ago. I came out from Baltimore, you know. I was born there, and +I learned newspaper work on the _Despatch_ there, and then I came West +and got a job on the Denver _Telegraph_.” + +“At a high salary, I suppose.” + +“So high that it seemed a sort of gold mine, after Eastern rates. But +it didn’t last. The paper was sold and remodelled inside a year, and +most of the reporters fired. I couldn’t find another newspaper job +just then, so I went out with a survey party in Dakota for the winter +and nearly froze to death, but when I got back and drew all my +accumulated salary, I bought a half-interest in a gold claim in the +Black Hills. Mining in the Black Hills was just beginning to boom +then, and I sold my claim in a couple of months for three thousand. I +made another three thousand in freighting that summer, and if I had +stayed at it I might have got rich, but I came down to Omaha and lost +it all playing the wheat market. I had a sure tip.” + +“Six thousand dollars! That’s more money than I ever saw all at once,” +Margaret commented. + +“It was more money than I saw for some time after that; but that’s a +fair specimen of the way I did things. Once I walked into Seattle +broke, and came out with four thousand dollars. I cleaned up nearly +twenty thousand once on real estate in San Francisco. Afterwards I +went down to Colorado, mining. I could almost have bought up the whole +Cripple Creek district when I got there, if I had had savvy enough, +but I let the chance slip, and when I did go to speculating my capital +went off like smoke. The end of it was that I had to go into the mines +and swing a pick myself.” + +“You were game, it seems, anyway,” said Margaret, who was listening +with absorbed interest. The sky was clearing a little, and the hail +had ceased, but the rain still swept in gusty clouds over the brown +prairie. + +“I had to be. It did me good, and I got four dollars a day, and in six +months I was working a claim of my own. By this time I thought I was +wise, and I sold it as soon as I found a sucker. I got ten thousand +for it, and I heard afterwards that he took fifty thousand out of it.” + +“What a fraud!” cried Margaret, indignantly. + +“Anyhow, I bought a little newspaper in a Kansas town that was just +drawing its breath for a boom. I worked for it till I almost got to +believe in that town myself. At one time my profits in corner lots and +things—on paper, you know—were up in the hundreds of thousands. In the +end, I had to sell for less than one thousand, and then I came to +Lincoln and worked for the paper here. That was two years ago, when I +first met you. Do you remember?” + +“I remember. You only stayed about four months. What did you do then?” + +“Yes, it seemed too slow here, too far east. I went back to North +Dakota, mining and country journalism. I did pretty well too, but for +the life of me I don’t know what became of the money. After that I +did—oh, everything. I rode a line on a ranch in Wyoming; I worked in a +sawmill in Oregon; I made money in some places and lost it in others. +Eight months ago I had a nice little pile, and I heard that there was +a big opening in real estate here in Lincoln, so I came.” + +“And wasn’t there an opening?” + +“There must have been. It swallowed up all my little pile without any +perceptible effect, all but eighty-two dollars.” + +“And now—?” + +“And now—I don’t know. I was reading a letter just now from a man I +know in South Africa telling of a theft of a million in gold from the +Pretoria treasury during the confusion of the war. Do you know, I +half-envied those thieves; I did, honour bright. A quick million is +what I’ve always been chasing, and I’d almost steal it if I got the +chance.” + +“You wouldn’t do any thing of the sort. I know you better than that. +You’re going to do something sensible and strong and brave. What is it +to be?” + +“But I don’t know,” cried Elliott. “There are heaps of things that I +can do, but I tell you I feel sick of the whole game. I feel as if I’d +been wasting time and money and everything.” + +“So you have, dear boy, so you have,” agreed Margaret. “And now, if +you’d let me advise you, I’d tell you to find out what you like best +and what you can do best, and settle down to that. You’ve had no +definite purpose at all.” + +“I have. It was always a quick fortune,” Elliott remonstrated. “I’ve +got it yet. There are plenty of chances in the West for a man to make +a million with less capital than I’ve got now. This isn’t a country of +small change.” + +“Yes, I know. I’ve heard men talk like that,” said Margaret, more +thoughtfully. “But it seems to me that you’ve been doing nothing but +gamble all your life, hoping for a big haul. Of course, I’ve no right +to advise you. Nebraska is all I know of the world, but I don’t like +to think of you going back to the ‘game,’ as you call it. Do you know +that it hurts me to think of you making money and losing it again, +year after year, and neglecting all your real chances? Too many men +have done that. A few of them won, but nobody knows where most of them +died. There are such chances to do good in the world, to be happy +ourselves and make others happy, and when I think of a man like my +father—” + +“You wouldn’t want me to go to Fiji as a missionary?” Elliott +interrupted. He was shy on the subject of her father, whom Margaret +had seen scarcely a dozen times since she could remember, but who was +her constant ideal of heroism, energy, and virtue. + +“Of course not. But don’t you like newspaper work?” + +“I like it very much.” + +“And isn’t it a good profession?” + +“Very fair, if one works like a slave. That is, I might reach a salary +of five thousand dollars a year. The best way is to buy out a small +country daily and build it up as the town grows. There’s money in that +sometimes.” + +“Why not do it, then? It’s not for the sake of the money. I hate +money; I’ve never had any. But I don’t believe any one can be really +happy after he’s twenty-five without a definite purpose and a kind of +settled life. Some day you’ll want to marry—” + +“Don’t say that. I’ve been a free lance too long!” cried Elliott. + +“I’ve always been afraid of matrimony, too,” said Margaret, with a +quick flush. “I want my own life, all my own.” + +“But what you say is right, dead right,” said Elliott, after a +reflective pause that lasted for several minutes. “It’s just what my +own conscience has been telling me.” He stopped to meditate again. + +“I’ll tell you what I think I’ll do,” he proceeded, at last. “I’ll go +over to Omaha and look for a job on one of the dailies there. I expect +I can get it, and it’ll give me time to think over my plans. + +“You’re not going East till fall, and I can run across here often, so +that I’ll be able to see you. I may go East this fall myself. You’ve +just crystallized what I’ve been thinking. I will do something to +surprise you, and I’ll make a fortune with it. Will you shake hands on +it?” + +She pulled off the riding-gauntlet and put out her hand, meeting his +eyes squarely. The deep flush still lingered in her cheeks. + +“We _are_ good friends,” he exclaimed, feeling a desire to say +something, he scarcely knew what. + +“The very best!” said Margaret, looking bright-eyed at him. “I hope we +always will be. Come,” she cried, pulling her hand away. “The storm’s +over. Let’s go back.” + +The rain had made the road very sticky, and they rode slowly side by +side, while Margaret chattered vivaciously of her own future, of her +music, of the coming winter in the East. She was full of plans, and +Elliott sunk his own perplexities to share in her enthusiasm. He was +himself imbued with the cheerfulness that comes of good resolutions, +whose difficulties are yet untried. + +“When are you going to Omaha?” she asked him, as he left her at the +gate. + +“In a couple of days. I’ll see you, of course, before I go.” + +He packed his two trunks that night. He did not see her again, +however, for she happened to be out when he called to make his +farewell. He was unreasonably annoyed at this disappointment, and +thought of delaying his departure another day, but he was afraid that +she would consider it weak. Anyhow, he expected to be back in Lincoln +within a fortnight, and he left that night for Omaha. + +The next couple of days he spent in a round of visits to the offices +of the various Omaha newspapers. He found every staff filled to its +capacity. There was a prospect of a vacancy in about a month, but it +was too long to wait, and, happening to hear that the St. Joseph +_Post_ was looking for a new city editor, he went thither with a +letter of introduction from the manager of the Omaha _Bee_. + + + + + CHAPTER II. THE OPEN ROAD + + +“That’s number eighteen, and the red,” said the croupier behind the +roulette-table, raking in the checks that the player had scattered +about the checkered layout. Round went the ball again with a whirr, +though there were no fresh stakes placed. + +In fact, Elliott had no more to place. The stack of checks he had +purchased was exhausted, and he had no mind to buy more. He slid down +from the high stool and stepped back, and with the fever of the game +still throbbing in his blood, he watched the little ivory ball as it +spun. It slackened speed; in a moment it would jump; and Elliott +suddenly felt—he _knew_—what the result would be. He thrust his hand +into his pocket where a crumpled bill lingered, and it was on his lips +to say “Five dollars on the single zero, straight,” when the ball +tripped on a barrier and fell. + +“That’s the single zero,” said the croupier, and spun the ball again. + +Elliott turned away, shrugging his shoulders. “That’s enough for me +to-night,” he remarked, with an affectation of unconcern. He had no +luck; he could predict the combinations only when he did not stake. + +The sleepy negro on guard drew the bolt for him to pass out, and he +went down the stairs to the precipitous St. Joseph streets, at that +hour, silent and deserted. It was a mild spring night, and the air +smelled sweet after the heavy atmosphere of the gaming-rooms. A full +moon dimmed the electric lights, and his steps echoed along the empty +street as he walked slowly toward the river-front, where the muddy +Missouri rolled yellow in the sparkling moonlight. + +As the coolness quieted his nerves he was filled with sickening +disgust at his own folly and weakness. “Why had he done it?” he asked +himself. He had never been a gambler, in the usual sense of the word. +His ventures had always been staked upon larger and more vital events +than the turn of a card or of a wheel, but after finding that he had +come to St. Joseph upon a fruitless quest, after all, he had gone to +the gaming-rooms with one of the _Post’s_ reporters, who was showing +him the town. In his depression and weariness and curiosity he had +begun to stake small sums and to win. He remembered scarcely anything +more. He had won largely; then the luck changed. He had sat down at +the table with nearly seventy dollars. How much was left? + +He had reached the bottom of the street, and, crossing the railway +tracks, he walked out upon the long pier that extends into the river +and sat down upon a pile of planks. A freight-train outbound for St. +Louis shattered the night as it banged over the noisy switches, and +then silence fell again upon the yellow river. In the unsleeping +railway-yards to the east there was an incessant flash and flicker of +swinging lanterns. + +He turned out his pockets. There was the five-dollar bill that he had +saved from the wheel, and a quantity of loose silver,—eighty-five +cents. With a lively emotion of pleasure he discovered another folded +five-dollar bill in his pocketbook which he had not suspected. Ten +dollars and eighty-five cents was the total amount. It was all that +was left of his former capital, or it was the nucleus of his new +fortunes, as he should choose to consider it. + +At the memory of the promises he had made scarcely a hundred hours ago +to Margaret Laurie, he shivered with shame and self-reproach, and in +his remorse he realized more clearly than ever the truth of her words. +He was wasting his life, his time, and his money; and already the +endless chase of the rainbow’s end began to seem no longer desirable. +In an access of gloom he foresaw years and years of such unprofitable +existence as he had already spent, alternations of impermanent success +and real disaster, of useless labour, of hardship that had lost its +romance and come to be as sordid as poverty, and for the sum of it +all, Failure. The fitful fever of such a life could have no place for +the quiet and graceful pleasures that he had almost forgotten, but +which seemed just then to lie at the basis of happiness and success; +and suddenly in his mind there arose a vision of the old city on the +Chesapeake Bay, its crooked and narrow streets named after long dead +colonial princes, its shady gardens, the Southern indolence, the +Southern quiet and perfume. + +That was where Margaret was going, and there perhaps he had left what +he should have clung to; and, as he turned this matter over in his +mind, he remembered another fact of present importance. One of the men +with whom he had worked on the Baltimore _Mail_ had within the last +year become its city editor. He had written offering Elliott a +position should he want it, but Elliott had never seriously considered +the proposition. + +Now, however, he jumped at it. “The West’s too young for me,” he +reflected. “I’d better get out of the game.” He would write to Grange +for the job that night, and he would be in Baltimore long before +Margaret would arrive there. No, he would start for the East that +night without writing,—and then he was chilled by the memory of his +reduced circumstances. A ticket to Baltimore would cost thirty-five +dollars at least. + +But the Westerner’s first lesson is to regard distance with contempt. +Elliott had travelled without money before, but it was where he knew +obliging freight conductors who would give him a lift in the caboose, +while between the Mississippi and the Atlantic was new ground to him. +Nevertheless he was unable to bring himself to regard the thousand odd +miles as a real obstacle. He could walk to the Mississippi if he had +to; it would be no novelty. Once on the river he could get a cheap +deck passage to Pittsburg, or he might even work his passage. +Probably, however, he could get a temporary job in St. Louis which +would supply expenses for the journey. As for his baggage, it would go +by express C. O. D., and he could draw enough advance salary in +Baltimore to pay for it. + +As he walked back to his hotel, he felt as if he were already in +Baltimore, regardless of the long and probably hard road that had +first to be travelled. That part of it, indeed, struck him rather in +the light of a joke. A few rough knocks were needed to seal his good +resolutions firmly this time, and the tramp to the Mississippi would +be a sort of penance, a pilgrimage. + +He debated whether to write to Margaret, and decided that he had +better not. It would not be pleasant to confess; at least it would be +preferable to wait until he was launched upon the new and industrious +career which he had planned. He would write from Baltimore, not +before. + +That night he laid out his roughest suit, and it was still early the +next morning when he tramped out of St. Joseph. His baggage was in the +hands of the express company, and he carried no load; despite his +penury he preferred to buy things than to “pack” them. He followed the +tracks of the Burlington Railroad with the idea that this would give +him a better and straighter route than the highway, as well as a +greater certainty of encountering villages at regular intervals. He +was unencumbered, strong, and hopeful, and he rejoiced, smoking his +pipe in the cool air, as he left the last streets behind, and saw the +steel rails running out infinitely between the brown corn-fields and +the orchards, straight into the shining West. + +For a long time Elliott remembered that day as one of the most +enjoyable he ever spent. It was warm enough to be pleasant; the track, +ballasted heavily with clay, made a delightfully elastic footpath; on +either side were pleasant bits of woodland dividing the brown fields +where the last year’s cornstalks were scattered, and farmhouses and +orchards clustered on the rolling slopes. Where they lay beside the +track the air was full of the hoarse “booing” of doves; and, after the +rawness of the treeless plains, this seemed to Elliott a land of +ancient comfort, of long-founded homesteads, and all manner of +richness. + +He had intended to ask for dinner at one of the farmhouses, where they +would charge him only a trifle, but he developed a nervous fear of +being taken for a tramp. Again and again he selected a house in the +distance where he resolved to make the essay; approached it +resolutely—and weakly passed by, finding some excuse for his +hesitation. It was too imposing, or too small; it looked as if dinner +were not ready, or as if it were already over; and all the time hunger +was growing more acute in his vitals. About one o’clock, however, he +came to a little village, just as his appetite was growing +uncontrollable. He cast economy to the dogs, went to the single hotel, +washed off the dust at the pump, and fell upon the hot country dinner +of coarse food supplied in unlimited quantity. It cost twenty-five +cents, but it was worth it; and after it was all over he strolled +slowly down the track, and finally sat down in the spring sun and +smoked till he softly fell asleep. + +He was awakened by the roar of an express-train going eastward, and it +occurred to him that his baggage must be aboard that train, travelling +in ease while its owner plodded between the rails. It was after two +o’clock; he had rested long enough, and he returned to the track and +took up the trail again. + +At sunset he reached Hamilton, and his time-table folder indicated +that he had travelled twenty-seven miles that day. At this rate he +would reach the Mississippi in less than a week, and he felt only an +ordinary sense of healthy fatigue and an extraordinary appetite. + +He was charged a quarter for supper that evening at a farmhouse, and +before dark he had reached the next village. There was a bit of +woodland near by where he imagined that he could encamp, and as it had +been a warm day he thought a fire would be unnecessary. So in the +twilight he scraped together a heap of last year’s leaves, and spread +his coat blanket-wise over his shoulders. It reminded him of many +camps in the mountains, and he went to sleep almost at once, for he +was very tired. + +A sensation of extreme cold awoke him. It was dark; the stars were +shining above the trees, and, looking at his watch by a match flare, +he learned that it was a quarter to twelve. But the cold was +unbearable; he lay and shivered miserably for half an hour, and then +got up to look for wood for a fire. In the darkness he could find +nothing, and, thoroughly awake by this time, he abandoned the camp and +went back through the gloom to the railway station, where half a dozen +empty box cars stood upon the siding. Clambering into one of these, it +appeared comparatively warm; it reminded him of Margaret and of the +hail upon Salt Lake,—things which already seemed very far away. + +His rest that night was shattered at frequent intervals by the crash +of passing freight-trains. They stopped, backed, and shunted within +six feet of him with a clatter of metal like a collapsing foundry, a +noise of loud talking and swearing, and a swinging flash of lanterns. +Drowsily Elliott fancied that his car was likely to be attached to +some train and hauled away, perhaps to St. Louis, perhaps to St. +Joseph, but in the stupefaction of sleep he did not care where he +went; and, in fact, when he awoke he saw the little village still +visible through the open side door, looking strange and unfamiliar in +the gray dawn. Grass and fences were white with hoarfrost. + +At five o’clock that afternoon Elliott was twenty-two miles nearer the +Mississippi. He had just passed a small station. His time-table told +him that there was another eight miles away, and he decided to reach +it and spend the night in one of its empty freight-cars, for he had +learned that camping without a fire was not practicable. + +He reached the desired point just as it was growing dark. Point is the +word, for it was nothing else. There was no depot there, no houses, no +siding,—nothing whatever but a name painted on a mocking plank beside +the track. It was a crossroads flag-station. Elliott had failed to +notice the “f” opposite the name in the time-table. + +The sun had set in clouds and a fine cold rain was beginning. The sky +looked black as iron. A camp in the rain was out of the question. The +next village was five miles away, but he would have to reach it. + +It was a dark night, but it never grows entirely dark in the open air, +as house-dwellers imagine, and as he went on he could make out looming +masses of forest on either hand. The country seemed to be growing +marshy; he came to several long trestles, which he crossed in fear of +an inopportune train. + +Presently the track plunged into a sort of swamp, where the trees came +close and black on both sides. The rain pattered in pools of water, +and through the wet air darted great fireflies in streaks of bluish +light. Their fading trails crossed among the rotting trees, and from +the depths of the marsh sounded such a chorus of frog voices as he had +never dreamed of, in piccolo, tenor, bass, screeching and thrumming. +In the deepest recesses some weird reptile emitted at regular +intervals a rattling Mephistophelean laugh. It impressed Elliott with +a kind of horror,—the blue witch-fires flashing through the rain, the +reptilian voices, and that ghastly laugh from the decaying woods; and +he hastened to leave it behind. + +It proved a very long five miles to the next station, and he was wet +through and stumbling with weariness when he reached it. The village +was pitch-dark; not a light burned about the station except the steady +switch-lamps; not a freight-car stood upon the siding. There was not +even a roof over the platform, and, too tired to look for shelter, +Elliott dropped upon a pile of lumber by the track, and went heavily +to sleep in the rain. + +The hideous clangour of a passing express-train awoke him; he was +growing accustomed to such awakenings. It was an hour from sunrise. +Close to him stood the little red station and a great water-tank. The +village was still asleep among the dripping trees. Not a smoke arose +from any chimney. + +It had stopped raining, and the east was clearer. Elliott was wet +through, cold and stiff, and he found his feet sore and swollen. He +was not in training for so much pedestrian exercise, and he had +overdone it. + +But the solitary hotel of the village awoke early, and Elliott did not +have to wait long for breakfast. Shortly after sunrise, strengthened +with hot coffee, he was renewing the march, finding every step +exquisitely painful. The romance of this sort of vagabondage was fast +evaporating, and the thought of the seventy dollars that he had wasted +in St. Joseph infuriated him. + +When the sun rose high enough to dry his garments, he sat down, +removed his coat, and steamed gently. After this respite the pain in +his blistered soles was worse than ever, but he trudged stoically on. +After an hour it grew dulled till he scarcely noticed it, and about +noon he reached Redwood. + +Near the station there was a small lunchroom, where Elliott satisfied +his appetite, and he returned to the railway, sat upon a pile of ties, +lighted his pipe, and reflected. The endless line of shining rails +running eternally eastward was loathsome to his eyes. + +“I’ve overdone it at the start. I ought to lie up and rest for a day +or two,” he said to himself. But even walking appeared preferable to +idling in the scraggly village, and he suddenly determined that he +would neither idle nor yet walk, but nevertheless he would be in +Hannibal in two days. + +He sat on the pile of ties for over an hour. A ponderous freight-train +dragged up to the station, went upon the siding and waited till the +fast express flashed past without stopping. Then the freight got +clumsily under way again with a tremendous clank and clamour. At it +rolled slowly past, Elliott saw a side door half-open. He ran after +it, swung himself up by his elbows, and tumbled head first into the +car. + +The train went on, gradually gaining speed. There were loose handfuls +of corn scattered about the car from its last load. Elliott slid the +door almost shut and sat down on the floor, wondering if the crew had +seen him get aboard. + +The train was attaining a considerable speed and the car was flung +over the rails with shattering jolts. Through the cranny of the door +Elliott saw trees and fields sweep by, and he was considering +pleasantly that he had already travelled an hour’s walk, when a heavy +trampling of feet sounded on the roof of the pitching car. + +He listened with some uneasiness. The feet reached the end of the car; +he heard them coming down the iron ladder, and then a face, a grimed +but not unfriendly face, topped by a blue cap, appeared at the little +slide in the end. + +“Hello!” called the brakeman, peering into the dark interior. “I know +you’re there. I seen you get in. I kin see you now.” + +At this culminative address, Elliott came out of his dusky corner. + +“Where you goin’?” demanded the brakeman. + +“Why, I’d like to stay right with this train. It’s going my way,” +replied Elliott. “You don’t mind, do you?” + +“Dunno as I do,—but you can’t ride this train free.” + +“Oh, that’s all right,” responded the trespasser. “I’m pretty short or +else I’d be on the cushions instead of here, but I don’t mind putting +up a quarter. Does that go?” + +“I reckon,” said the brakeman, unhesitatingly. “This train don’t go +only to Brookfield; that’s the division point. Keep the door shet, an’ +don’t let nobody see you.” + +He went back to the top of the train. Elliott felt as if he had been +swindled, for Brookfield was only twenty-five miles away. However, he +hoped to catch another freight that afternoon and make as many more +miles before sunset, and he settled himself as comfortably as possible +on the jolting floor and lighted his pipe. + +He had time to smoke many pipes before reaching Brookfield, for it was +nearly two hours before the heavy train rolled into the yards. Elliott +climbed out upon the side-ladder and swung to the ground before the +train stopped, to avoid a possible railway constable. Considerably to +his surprise, he saw half a dozen rusty-looking vagrants hanging to +the irons and jumping off at the same time. He had had more fellow +passengers than he had suspected, and it struck him that +freight-breaking must be rather a lucrative employment. + +All the rest of that afternoon Elliott watched the freight-yards, but, +though some trains departed eastward, they appeared to contain no +empty cars. After supper he returned to the railroad, and remained +there till it grew dark. Trains came and went; there were engines +hissing and panting without cease; all the dozen tracks were crowded +with cars, and up and down the narrow alleys between them hastened men +with lanterns, talking and swearing loudly. The crash and jar of +coupling and shunting went on ceaselessly, and this activity did not +lessen, and the night passed, for Brookfield was one of the “division +points” on the main line of a great railroad. + +It was nearly midnight when Elliott observed that a train was being +made up with the caboose on the western end. He walked its length; the +switchmen paid no attention to him, and he discovered an empty box car +about the middle of the train, and into it he climbed without delay. +For another half-hour, however, the manipulation of the cars +continued, with successive violent shocks as fresh cars were coupled +on. The whole train seemed to be broken and shuffled in the darkness, +and it was hauled up and down till Elliott began to doubt whether it +were going ahead at all. But at last he heard the welcome two blasts +from the locomotive ahead, and in another minute the long train was +labouring out. + +This time he suffered no interference from any brakeman. The train was +a fast freight; it made no stop for nearly two hours, and then +continued after the briefest delay. The speed was high enough to make +the springless car most uncomfortable, till the jolts seemed to shake +the very bones loose in Elliott’s body. Every position he tried seemed +more uncomfortable than the last, but he was determined to stay with +the train as far as it went. After a few hours of being tossed about, +he became somewhat stupefied, and even dozed a little, and between +sleep and waking the night passed. In the first gray of morning the +train pulled up at the great water-tank at Palmyra Junction, fifteen +miles from Hannibal. He had travelled ninety miles that night. + +The train went no farther. After waiting an hour or two for another, +Elliott decided to walk the rest of the way, and he left Palmyra at +nine o’clock, arriving in Hannibal, very tired and dusty, at a little +after three. At the bottom of the long street he caught a glimpse of +the broad Mississippi rolling yellow between its banked levees. The +first stage of the journey was accomplished; the next would be upon +the river. + + + + + CHAPTER III. THE ADVENTURER + + +When he went down to the levee an hour or two later, Elliott found no +boats preparing to sail, and a general lack of activity about the +steamer wharves. Sitting upon a stack of cotton-bales, he perceived a +young man of rather less than his own age, smoking with something of +the air of a busy man who finds a moment for relaxation. He was very +much tanned; he wore a flannel shirt and a black tie, and his clothes +were soiled with axle-grease and coal-dust. By these tokens Elliott +recognized that he had been for some time in contact with the +railways, but he did not look like a railway man, and his face wore a +bright alertness that distinguished it unmistakably from that of the +joyless hobo. Elliott took him for an amateur vagrant like himself. + +“Seems to be nothing doing on the river. Do you know when there’s a +boat for St. Louis?” he asked, pausing beside the cotton-bales. + +The lounger took stock of Elliott, keenly but with good nature. + +“There ought to be one leaving about six o’clock, but I don’t see any +sign of her yet,” he responded. “Going down the river?” + +“I thought I’d try it. Do you reckon the mate would take me on, even +if it was only to work my passage?” + +“What do you want to do that for?” queried the other, with a sort of +astonished amusement. + +“Why, I wanted to get to St. Louis, and after that up to Pittsburg or +Cincinnati.” + +“If you want to get there easy, and get there alive, I don’t see why +you don’t swim,” remarked the stranger, dryly. “You don’t know much +about these river boats, do you? Man, they’re floating hells. The crew +is all niggers, and the toughest gang of pirates in America. They +knife a man for a chew of tobacco. The officers themselves don’t +hardly dare go down on the lower deck after dark,—but, Lord! they do +take it out of the black devils when they tie up at a wharf and start +to unload. If you can’t work for ten hours at a stretch toting a +hundred-pound crate in each hand, live on corn bread, and kill a man +every night, don’t try the boats. A white man wouldn’t last any longer +in that crowd than an icicle in hell.” + +“The deuce!” said Elliott, disconcerted. “I’m very anxious to get to +Cincinnati, anyway, and the fact is I’m sort of strapped. I thought +I’d be all right when I got to the river.” + +“Tried freights?” + +“Yes, and they don’t suit me too well.” + +“I’m going to St. Louis,” said the stranger, after a pause. “I’m going +to leave early in the morning, and I expect to get there in three +hours, and I don’t intend that it shall cost me a cent. To tell the +truth, I’m in something of the same fix as you are.” + +“How’ll you manage it?” Elliott inquired, with much curiosity. + +“Ride a passenger-train, on the top. I’ve just come from Seattle that +way,” he continued, after a meditative pause. “There’s no great amount +of fun in it, but I did it in six days.” + +“The deuce!” exclaimed Elliott again. “Do you mean to say that you +came all the way from Seattle in six days, beating passenger-trains?” + +“Every inch of it. I was in a hurry, and I’m in a hurry yet. Mostly I +rode the top, and sometimes the blind, and once I tried the trucks, +but next time I’ll walk first. The beast of a conductor found that I +was there, and poured ashes down between the cars.” + +“You’re a genius,” said Elliott, looking at the audacious traveller +with admiration. “That’s beyond me.” + +“Not a bit of it. I don’t do this sort of thing professionally, nor +you, either. Excuse me, I can see that you’re no more a bum than I am. +But a man ought to be able to do anything,—beat the hobo at his own +game if he’s driven to it. I simply had to get to Nashville, and I +hadn’t the money for a ticket. I did it, or I’ve nearly done it, and +you could have done it, too. + +“Of course you could,” he went on, as Elliott looked doubtful. “Come +with me in the morning, if you’re game, and I’ll guarantee to land you +in St. Louis by eight o’clock.” + +“Oh, I’m game all right,” cried Elliott, “if you’re sure I won’t be +troubling you.” + +“Didn’t I say that I’m going, anyway. I mighty seldom let anybody +trouble me. Now look here: the fast train from Omaha gets here a +little before three, daylight. You meet me at the passenger depot at, +say, three o’clock. Better get as much sleep as you can before that, +for you sure won’t get any after it.” + +He glanced at Elliott with a smile that had the effect of a challenge. +“Oh, I won’t back out,” Elliott assured him. “I’ll be there, sharp on +time. So long, till morning.” + +Elliott went away a little puzzled by his new comrade, and not +altogether satisfied. The young fellow—he did not know his +name—evidently was in possession of an almost infernal degree of +energy. Plainly he was no “bum,” as he had said; it was equally plain +that he was, undeniably, not quite a gentleman; and, plainest of all, +that he was a man of much experience of the world and ability to take +care of himself in it. Elliott could not quite place him. He was a +little like a professional gambler down on his luck. It was quite +possible that he was a high-class crook escaping from the scene of his +latest exploit, and it was this consideration that roused Elliott’s +uneasiness. It was bad enough, he thought, to be obliged to dodge yard +watchmen and railway detectives without risking arrest for another +man’s safe-cracking. + +Still, the association would last only for a few hours, and he went to +bed that night resolved to carry the agreement through. He was staying +at a cheap hotel, and there were times when he would have regarded its +appointments as impossible, but it struck him just now that he had +never known before what luxury was. It was four nights since he had +slept in a bed, and, as he stretched himself luxuriously between the +sheets, the idea of getting up at three o’clock seemed a fantastic +impossibility. + +A thundering at the door made it real, however. He had left orders at +the desk to be called, and he pulled his watch from under the pillow. +There was no mistake; it was three o’clock, and, shivering and still +sleepy, he got up and lighted the gas. + +Near the waterfront he found an all-night lunchroom, and hot coffee +and a sandwich effected a miraculous mental change. With increasing +cheerfulness he went on toward the depot through the deserted streets. +It was still dark and the stars were shining, but there was an +aromatic freshness in the air, and low in the east a tinge of faintest +pallor. + +He found his prospective fellow traveller lounging about the +triangular walk that surrounds the depot, and saluted him with a +flourish of his pipestem. An almost imperceptible grayness was +beginning to fill the air, and sparrows chirped in the blackened trees +about the station. + +“She’ll be along in a few minutes,” said the expert, referring to the +train. “By the way, my name’s Bennett; what’ll I call you? Any old +name’ll do.” + +“Call me Elliott. That happens to be my real name, anyway. But say, +won’t it be a little too light soon for us to sit up in plain sight on +the roof of that train?” + +“A little. But she doesn’t make any stop all the way to St. Louis, I +believe, and of course the people on board can’t see us. It’s easier +to climb up there by daylight, too, and—there she whistles.” + +The few early passengers hurried out upon the platform. In half a +minute the train rolled into the station, its windows closely +curtained and the headlight glaring through the gray dawn. The +passengers went aboard; there was no demand for tickets at the car +steps, and Bennett and Elliott went straight to the smoker, where they +sat quietly till the train started again, after the briefest delay. + +“Now come along,” muttered Bennett, and Elliott followed him across +the platforms and through the three day coaches full of dishevelled, +dozing passengers. The Pullmans came next, and luckily the juncture +was not vestibuled. + +Without the slightest hesitation Bennett climbed upon the horizontal +brake-wheel, and put his hands on the roof of the sleeper. Then with a +vigorous spring he went up, crept to a more level portion of the roof, +and beckoned Elliott to follow him. + +The train was now running fast, and the violent oscillation of the +cars made the feat look even more difficult and dangerous than it was. +But the idea that the conductor might come through and find him there +stimulated Elliott amazingly, and he clambered nervously upon the +wheel, and got his hands upon the grimy roof that was heaving like a +boat on a stormy sea. Securing a firm hold, he attempted to spring up, +but a violent lurch at that moment flung him aside, and he was left +dangling perilously till Bennett scrambled to his relief and by +strenuous efforts hauled him up to more security. + +A furious blast of smoke and cinders struck his face. Before him +writhed the dark, reptilian back of the train, ending in the +locomotive, that was just then wreathed in a vivid glare from the +opened firebox. From that view-point the engine seemed to leap and +struggle like a frenzied horse, and all the cars plunged, rolling, +till it appeared miraculous that they did not leave the rails. Even as +he lay flat on the roof of the bucking car it was not easy to avoid +being pitched sideways. The cinders came in suffocating blasts with +the force of sleet, and presently, following Bennett’s example, +Elliott turned about with his head to the rear and lay with his face +buried in his arms. The roar of the air and of the train made speech +out of the question. + +The position had its discomforts, but it seemed an excellent strategic +one. An hour went by, and it was now quite light. The fast express +continued to devour the miles with undiminished speed. + +Little sleeping villages flashed by, as Elliott saw occasionally when +he ventured to raise his head Two hours; they were within forty miles +of St. Louis, when the train unexpectedly slackened speed and came to +a stop. + +Elliott jumped to the conclusion that it had stopped for the sole +purpose of putting him off, but he observed immediately that it was to +take water. He glanced at Bennett, who was looking about with an air +of disgusted surprise. + +There were men about the little station, and the trespassers flattened +themselves upon the car roof, hoping to escape notice, but some one +must have seen them. A gold-laced brakeman presently thrust his head +up from below, mounted upon the brake-wheel. + +“Come now, get down out of that!” he commanded. + +His conductor was looking on, and there was no possibility of coming +to an arrangement with him. Elliott slid down to the platform, much +crestfallen, followed by Bennett. Cinders fell in showers from their +clothing as they moved, and a number of passengers watched them with +unsympathetic curiosity as they walked away. + +“By thunder, I hate to be ditched like that!” muttered Bennett, +glancing savagely about. “Let’s try the blind baggage, if there is +one. We’ll beat this train yet.” + +Elliott doubted the wisdom of this second attempt, but they went +forward, looking for the little platform, usually “blind,” or +doorless, which is to be found at the front end of most baggage-cars. +It was there; none of the crew appeared to be looking that way, and +they scrambled aboard just as the train started. + +It was a much more comfortable position than the top, for there were +iron rails to cling to and a platform to sit upon, while they were out +of the way of smoke and cinders. Immediately before them rose the +black iron hulk of the tender and it was not long before the fireman +discovered them as he shovelled coal, but he made no hostile +demonstration beyond playfully shaking his fist. + +“We’re safe for St. Louis now. There won’t be another stop, and nobody +can see us or get at us while she’s moving,” remarked Bennett, with +satisfaction. He glanced over his shoulder, turned and looked again, +and his face suddenly fell. After a moment’s sober stare, he burst +into a fit of laughter. + +“Done again! This ‘blind’ isn’t blind at all,” he cried, pointing to +the car-end. + +It was hideously true. There was a narrow door which they had not +observed in the end of the car. Just then it was closed fast enough, +but there was no telling when it might be opened. + +“Anyhow,” said Elliott, plucking up courage, “we’re making nearly +forty miles an hour, and every minute they leave us in peace means +almost another mile gained.” + +“Yes, and there’s just a chance that nobody opens this door. I think +that if we stop again we’d better give this train up.” + +They watched the door anxiously as the minutes and the miles went +past, but it remained unopened. The little stations flew +past—Clarksville, Annada, Winfield. It was not far to West Alton, and +that was practically St. Louis. + +The end was almost in sight. But the door opened suddenly, and the +brakeman they had before encountered came out. + +“I told you fellows to get off half an hour ago.” + +“Now, look here,” said Bennett, persuasively. “We’re not doing this +train any harm at all. We’re not going inside; we’ll stay right here, +and we’ll jump the minute she slows for Alton. We’re no hobos. We’re +straight enough, only we’re playing in hard luck just now and we’ve +simply got to stay on this train. Now you go away, and just fancy you +never saw us, and you’ll be doing us a good turn.” + +The brakeman reflected a moment, looked at them with an expression +more of sorrow than of anger, and returned to the car without saying +anything. + +“He’s all right,” said Elliott. + +“And every minute means a mile,” Bennett added. + +But in less than a mile the brakeman returned, and the conductor came +with him. + +“Come now, get off!” commanded the chief, crisply. + +“We’ll get off if we have to,” said Bennett. “You must slow up for us, +though.” + +“Slow hell!” returned the conductor. “I’ve lost time enough with you +bums. Hit the gravel, now!” + +Elliott glanced down. The gravel was sliding past with such rapidity +that the roadway looked smooth as a slate. + +“Great heavens, man, you wouldn’t throw us off with the train going a +mile a minute. It would be sure murder,” pleaded Bennett. + +“I’ve no time to talk. Jump, or I’ll throw you off.” The conductor +advanced menacingly, with the brakeman at his shoulder. + +Bennett lifted his arm with a gesture that the conductor mistook for +aggression. He whipped out his revolver and thrust it in Bennett’s +face. The adventurer, startled, stepped quickly back, clean off the +platform, and vanished. + +A wave of rage choked Elliott’s throat, and he barely restrained +himself from flying at the throats of his uniformed tormentors. + +“Now you’ve done it,” he said, finding speech with difficulty. “You’ve +killed the man.” + +The conductor, looking conscience-stricken and anxious, leaned far out +and gazed back, and then pulled the bell-cord. + +“He needn’t have jumped. I wouldn’t have thrown him off; never did +such a thing in my life,” he muttered. + +“He didn’t jump. You assaulted him, when all he wanted was to get off +quietly. You pulled your gun on him, when neither of us was armed. +It’s murder, and you’ll be shown what that means.” + +Elliott felt that he had the moral supremacy. The conductor made no +reply, and the train came to a stop. + +“You’d better go back and look after your partner,” he said, in a +subdued manner. “I’m mighty sorry. I’d never have hurt him if he’d +stayed quiet. It’s only a couple of miles to Alton,” he added, as +Elliott jumped down, “and you can take him into St. Louis all right, +if he isn’t hurt bad. I’d wait and take you in myself if I wasn’t +eighteen minutes late already.” + +The train was moving ahead again before Elliott had reached its rear. +He ran as fast as he could, and while still a great way off he was +relieved to see Bennett sitting up among the weeds near the fence +where he had been pitched by the fall. He was leaning on his arms and +spitting blood profusely. + +“Are you hurt much, old man? I thought you’d be killed!” cried +Elliott, hurrying up. + +Bennett looked at him in a daze. His face was terribly cut and bruised +with the gravel, and the blood had made a sort of paste with the +smoke-dust on his cheeks. His clothes were rent into great tatters. + +“Don’t wait for me,” he muttered, thickly. “Go ahead. Don’t miss the +train. I’m—all right.” + +But his head drooped helplessly, and he sank down. The ditch was full +of running water, and Elliott brought his hat full and bathed the +wounded man’s head and washed off the blood and grime. Bennett revived +at this, and looked up more intelligently. + +Elliott examined him cursorily. His right arm was certainly broken, +and something appeared wrong with the shoulder-joint; it looked as if +it might be dislocated. There must be a rib broken as well, for +Bennett complained of intense pain in his chest, and continued to spit +blood. + +“That conductor certainly ditched us, didn’t he?” he murmured. “Did he +throw you off too? I was a fool not to see that door.” + +None of the injuries appeared fatal, or even very serious, with proper +medical care, and Elliott felt sure that the right thing was to get +his comrade into St. Louis and the hospital at once. But Bennett was +quite incapable of walking, and Elliott was not less unable to carry +him. He became feverish and semidelirious again; he talked vaguely of +war and shipwreck, but in his lucid moments he still adjured Elliott +to leave him. + +Elliott remained beside him, though with increasing anxiety. After an +hour or two, however, he was relieved by the appearance of a gang of +section workers with their hand-car, to whom Elliott explained the +situation without reserve. They were sympathetic, and carried both +Elliott and Bennett into Alton on their car, where they waited for two +hours for a train to St. Louis. + +Bennett was got into the smoker with some difficulty; he remained +almost unconscious all the way, and at the Union Station in St. Louis +there was more difficulty. Elliott was afraid to call a policeman and +ask for the ambulance, lest admission should be refused on the ground +that Bennett was an outsider. So, half-supporting and half-carrying +the injured man, he got him out of the station and a few yards along +the street. It was impossible to do more. A policeman came up, and +Elliott briefly explained that this man was badly hurt and would have +to go to the hospital at once. Then he hurried off, lest any questions +should be asked. + + + + + CHAPTER IV. THE FATE OF THE TREASURE SHIP + + +Elliott watched the arrival of the ambulance from a distance, for he +felt certain that he looked a thorough tramp, with his rough dress and +the clinging coal grime of the railroad. Yet he did not wish to leave +the city without at least seeing Bennett again, and hearing the +medical account of his condition; and he was surprised to find how +much liking he felt for this light-hearted and resourceful vagabond +whom he had known for less than twenty-four hours. + +Though his money was running dangerously short, he lodged himself at a +not wholly respectable hotel on Market Street, and next morning he +made what improvement he could in his appearance, and went to the +hospital. Visitors, it turned out, were not admitted that day, but he +was told that his friend was in a very bad way indeed. The young +doctor in white duck evidently did not consider his shabby-looking +inquirer as capable of comprehending technical details, and seemed +himself incapable of furnishing any other, but Elliott gathered that +Bennett had been found to have two or three ribs broken and his +shoulder dislocated, besides a broken arm and more or less severe +lacerations of the lungs. He was quite conscious, however, and the +doctor said that, if he grew no worse, it was likely that Elliott +would be permitted to see him on the next visiting day, which would be +the morrow. + +At three o’clock the next afternoon, therefore, Elliott applied, and +was admitted without objection. A wearied-looking nurse led him +through the ward, where there seemed a visitor for every cot. Bennett, +she said, appeared a little better. His temperature had gone down and +he seemed to be recovering well from the shock, but Elliott was +startled at the pallor of the face upon the pillow. The brown tan +looked like yellow paint upon white paper, but Bennett greeted him +cheerfully and seemed nervously anxious to talk. + +“Sit down here. This is mighty good of you,” he said. “I never got +ditched like that before. Did that conductor throw you off, too?” + +“Oh, no. He stopped the train for me to get off. His conscience was +hurting him, I think.” + +“Well, it’s going to cost the road something, I think. But you’ve +stayed by me like a brother,” Bennett went on, deliberatively, “and +I’ll make it up to you if I can, and I think I can. There’s something +I want to tell you about. It’s no small thing, and it’ll take an hour +or two, so you’ll have to come to-morrow afternoon, and bring a +note-book. We can’t talk with all these visitors swarming around. +They’ll let you in; I’ve fixed it up with the doctor. They said that +it was liable to kill me, but I told them that it was a matter of life +and death, and they gave in. It is a life and death business, too, for +a couple of dozen men have been killed in it already, and there’s a +round million, at least, in solid gold. What do you think of that?” + +Elliott thought that his comrade was becoming delirious again, but he +did not say so. The nurse, who had been keeping an eye on him, came +up. + +“I really think you’ve talked long enough,” she said, with a sweetness +that had the force of a command. + +“All right,” said Elliott, getting up. “I’ll see you to-morrow, then. +Good-bye.” + +“Will it really be all right, nurse, for me to have a long talk with +him to-morrow?” he inquired, as soon as he was out of Bennett’s +hearing. + +“No, it isn’t all right, but the house surgeon has given his consent. +I think it’s decidedly dangerous, but your friend said it was an +absolute matter of life and death, and it may do him good to get it +off his mind. Come, since you’ve got permission; and if it seems to +excite him too much, I’ll send you away.” + +Elliott felt a good deal of curiosity as to the secret which was to be +confided to him, for which a couple of dozen men had died already. +Probably it had something to do with Bennett’s rapid journey across +the continent, and Elliott felt some apprehension that he might be +about to be made the involuntary accessory to some large and unlawful +exploit. + +His curiosity made him willing to take chances, however, and he waited +impatiently for the next afternoon. When it came, he found Bennett +propped up on three pillows and looking better. The nurse said that he +really was better, that all would probably go well, but that it would +be slow work, and this slowness seemed to irritate the patient most of +all. + +“First,” he said, when the nurse was out of earshot, “I’ll tell you +what you must do for me. You’ll have to go out of your way to do it, +but, unless I’m mistaken, you’ll find it worth your while. I want you +to go to Nashville, Tennessee, and I want you to go at once. It’s a +case for hurry. I can’t write now, and I daren’t telegraph. Maybe the +men I want aren’t there, but you can find where they’re gone. Will you +go?” + +Elliott hesitated half a moment, wishing he knew what was coming next, +but he promised—with a mental reservation. + +“That’s all right, then,” said Bennett, “because I know you’re +square,”—a remark which touched Elliott’s conscience. “It’s quite a +tale that I want you to carry to them, and I’ll have to cut it as +short as I can, and you’d better make notes as I go along, for every +detail is important. + +“I told you how I’d crossed the country from the Coast. I had come as +straight as I could from South Africa. I wasn’t in any army there; +that’s not in my line. It don’t matter what I was doing; I was just +fishing around in the troubled waters. + +“Anyway, I had a big deal on that was going to make or break me, and +it broke me. I was in Lorenzo Marques then, and it was the most +God-awful spot I ever struck. It was full of all the scum of the war, +every sort of ruffians and beats, Portuguese and Dutch and Boers and +British deserters, and gamblers and mule-drivers from America, all +rowing and knifing each other, and it was blazing hot and they had +fever there, too. + +“I’ve seen a good many wicked places, but I never went against +anything like that, and I wanted to get back to America. The American +consul wouldn’t do anything for me at all, but I saw an American +steamer out in the river,—the _Clara McClay_ of Philadelphia,—loading +for the East Coast and then Antwerp. She was the rottenest sort of +tramp, but she caught my eye because she was the only American ship I +ever saw in those waters. So I went aboard and asked the mate to sign +me on as a deck-hand to Antwerp, and he just kicked me over the side. + +“Anyway, I was determined to go on that ship, mate or no mate, for +there wasn’t anything else going my way, and I expected to die of +fever if I waited. So I went aboard again the night before she sailed, +and they were getting in cargo by lantern light, and there was such a +stir on the decks that nobody paid any attention to me. I got below, +and dropped through the hatch into the forehold. They had pretty +nearly finished loading by that time, and pretty soon they put the +hatches on. It was as dark as Egypt then, and hotter than Henry, with +an awful smell, but after awhile I went to sleep, and when I woke up +she was at sea, and rolling heavily. + +“When I thought she must be good and clear of land, I started to go up +and report myself, but when I’d stumbled around in the dark for +awhile, I found that the bales and crates were piled up so that I +couldn’t get near the hatch. So I sat down and thought it over. I had +a quart bottle of water with me, but nothing to eat, and I began to be +horribly hungry. + +“When I’d been there ten or twelve hours, I guess, I tried moving some +of the crates to get to the hatchway, but they were too heavy. But +while I was lighting matches to see where I was, I saw a lot of cases +just alike, and all marked with the stencil of a Chicago brand of +corned beef, and it looked like home. I thought it must be a +providential interposition, for I was pretty near starving, and it +struck me that I might rip one of the boards off, get out a can or +two, and nail the case up again. + +“The cases were big and heavy, and they were all screwed up and banded +with sheet iron, but I had regularly got it into my head that I was +going to get into one of them, and at last I did burst a hole. When I +stuck my hand in, it nearly broke my heart. There wasn’t anything +there at all, so far as I could make out, but a lot of dry grass. + +“It occurred to me that this must be another commissary fraud, but +when I tried to move the case it seemed heavy as lead. I poked my arm +down into the grass and rummaged around. At last I struck something +hard and square down near the middle, but it didn’t feel like a meat +tin. I worked it out, and lit a match. It was a gold brick, and it +must have weighed ten pounds.” + +“Solid, real gold?” cried Elliott, with a sudden memory of Salt Lake. + +“The real thing. It didn’t take me long to gut that box, and I dug out +nineteen more bricks, nearly fifty thousand dollars’ worth, I +reckoned. No wonder it was heavy. Then I looked over the rest of the +cases, and they all looked just alike, and there were twenty-three of +them, so I figured up that there must be considerably over a million +in those boxes.” + +“Stolen from the Pretoria treasury!” Elliott exclaimed. + +“I believe it was, but what made you think of that?” + +“Never mind; I’ll tell you later. Go on.” + +“Well, I felt pretty certain that this gold came from the Rand, of +course, but who it belonged to, or why he had shipped it on this old +tramp steamer was what I couldn’t make out. Of course, if he _was_ +going to ship it on this boat, it was easy to understand that it might +be safer to pass it as corned beef, but the whole thing looked queer +and crooked to me. + +“At first I was fairly off my head at the find, but when I came to +think it over, it looked like there wasn’t anything in it for me, +after all. I couldn’t walk off with those bricks. They might be +government stuff, and I didn’t want any trouble with Secret Service +men. So after awhile I packed up the box again as well as I could and +fixed the lid. + +“I thought I’d lie low for awhile, and I stayed in that black hole +till I’d drunk all my bottle of water and was pretty near ready to eat +my boots. When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I raised a devil of a +racket, yelling, and hammering on the deck overhead with a piece of +plank, and I kept this up, off and on, for half a day before they +hauled the hatch off and took me out. It was dark night, with a fresh +wind, and the ship rolling, and I never smelt anything so good as that +open air. + +“The first thing they did was to drag me before that same mate for +judgment, and he cursed me till he was blue. He’d have murdered me if +he’d recognized me, and he nearly did anyway, for he sent me down to +the stoke-hold. + +“I couldn’t stand that. I’d had a touch of fever in Durban, and I was +weak with hunger anyway, and the first thing I knew I was tumbling in +a heap on the coal. Somebody threw a bucket of water over me, but it +was no use. I couldn’t stagger, and they took me up and made a +deck-hand of me. + +“This suited me all right, and the fresh air soon fixed me up. I +wouldn’t have minded the job at all, but for the mate. The crew were +afraid of him as death. His name was Burke, Jim Burke; he was a big +Irishman, with a fist like a ham, and he made that ship a hell. He +nearly killed a man the first night I was on deck, and I’ve got some +of his marks on me yet. The captain wasn’t so bad, but I didn’t see so +much of him. I was in the mate’s watch,—worse luck! + +“But all this time I didn’t forget that gold below, and I was trying +to see through the mystery. But I couldn’t make any sense of it till I +saw the passengers we had. + +“There were four of them that I saw. Three of them I spotted at once +as from Pretoria. I’d seen the office-holding Boer often enough to +recognize him, and they always talked among themselves in the Taal. +Two of them were native Boers, I was sure, but the third looked like +some sort of German. Besides these fellows, there was a middle-aged +Englishman that looked like a missionary, and I heard something of +another man who never showed himself, but I didn’t pay any attention +to any one but the Boers. + +“Because when I saw them, I saw through the whole thing. The war was +going well for the Boers just then, but there were plenty of them wise +enough to see that they couldn’t fight England to a finish, and +crooked enough to try to feather their nests while they had a chance. +Pretoria was all disorganized with the war-fever; half the government +was at the front, and I’d heard of the careless ways they handled the +treasury at the best of times.” + +“You were right,” said Elliott. “I happen to know something about it.” +And he imparted to Bennett the story of the official plundering which +the mine superintendent in the Rand had written to him. + +“Well, I thought that must have been it,” went on Bennett. “I wondered +if the officers of the steamer knew the gold was there, but I didn’t +think so. I was sure they didn’t,—not if the Boer was as ‘slim’ as he +ought to be. I wouldn’t have trusted a box of cigars to that crowd. + +“But all this detective work didn’t put me any forwarder, and the mate +kept me from meditating too much. The boat was the worst old scow I +ever saw. Twelve knots was about her best speed, and then we always +expected the propeller to drop off, and she rolled like an empty +barrel when there was the slightest sea. I’m no sailor, and that was +the first time I’d ever bunked with the crew, but I could see easy +enough that she was rotten. + +“For the first few days the weather was pretty fair, but on the fourth +after I came on deck it turned rougher. There wasn’t very much wind, +but a heavy swell, as if there was a big gale somewhere out in the +Indian Ocean. It was the sixth day from port, and I reckoned that we +must be getting pretty well through the Mozambique Channel. + +“It came on cloudy that evening, and when I came on deck it was dark +as pitch and raining hard. There was a light, cool south wind with a +tremendous black swell. The big oily rollers hoisted her so that the +screw was racing half the time, and every little while she’d take it +green, with an awful crash. Everybody was in oilskins but me, and I +hadn’t any. + +“The mate was on the bridge, and it wasn’t long before we found out +that he was drunk, and he must have had a bottle up there with him, +for he kept getting drunker. Once in awhile he’d come down and raise +Cain, and then go back and curse us from up there till everybody was +in a blue fright. We didn’t know what he might do with the ship, and +the watch below came on deck without being called. + +“Just a little before six bells struck, I heard a yell, and I found +that he’d pitched the helmsman clear off the bridge, and taken the +wheel himself. That part of the channel is full of reefs and islands, +and we heard surf in about half an hour,—straight ahead the breakers +sounded, and the mate appeared to be running her dead on them. + +“Three or four of the men made a rush for the bridge to take the wheel +away from him, and some one went down to call the captain. But before +the mutineers were half-way up the iron ladder, the mate had his +pistol out, and shot the top man through the head, and he knocked down +the rest as he fell. By this time we could see the surf, spouting tall +and white like geysers, but it was too dark to see the land. The +captain came on deck, half-dressed and looking wild, but he was hardly +up when the mate gave a whoop, rang for full speed ahead, and ran her +square on the reef. + +“She struck with a bang that seemed to smash everything on board. I +was pitched half the length of the deck, it seemed to me, and next +minute a big roller picked her up and lifted her over the reef and set +her down hard, with another terrific bump. + +“When we’d picked ourselves up we couldn’t see anything at all, and +the spray was flying over us in bucketfuls. The steam was blowing off, +all the lights had gone out, and the old boat was lying almost on her +port rails, shaking like a leaf at every big sea. Still there didn’t +seem to be much danger of her breaking up right away, and we settled +down after awhile to wait for daylight. + +“When the light came back we saw that we were up against a long, +barren island, about half a mile across I should think, with one rocky +hill, and no trees, no natives, nor anything. We were stuck on a bunch +of reefs nearly a mile from shore, and we were half-full of water. +When we looked her over, we found that she was cracking in two, so we +got ready to launch the boats. Two of the men were missing, and we +never saw any more of the captain; we supposed that they had been +pitched overboard when she struck. The mate had been knocked off the +bridge and appeared to be hurt. He was lying groaning against the +deckhouse, but nobody paid any attention to him. + +“We got one of the starboard boats into the water with six men in it, +and it was smashed and swamped against the side before it was fairly +afloat. We threw lines and things, but only fished out one of the +crew. I got into the second boat myself, and we managed to fend off +from the ship, and got on pretty well till we came close to the shore. +It was a bad landing-place when there was any sea running, but we +tried it, and piled her all up in the surf. I got tossed on shore +somehow,—I don’t know how,—but presently I found myself half in the +water and half out, with a bleeding crack in my head, and most of the +skin scraped off my arms and legs. I looked for the rest of the boat’s +crew, but none of them came ashore—alive, that is. + +“In about half an hour I saw them put another boat overboard, but this +one shared the fate of the first, and I don’t think anybody was saved. +There was still too much sea running to launch boats. + +“I lay around on the shingle in a sort of silly state from the crack +on my head, waiting for some one to come and find me, but nobody came. +About noon, I guess, I saw another boat skimming round the corner of +the island with a sail set, and four or five men in her. I tried to +signal her, but she went out of sight, and that was the last I saw of +any of the people of the _Clara McClay_. + +“Everybody seemed to be off the ship, and it looked like I was the +only one to get to the island. That night the wind and sea got up +tremendously; the spray flew clean over the island, and I got up on +the hill to keep from being washed off. In the morning I saw that the +ship had cracked right open and broken in two, with her stern sticking +on the rocks and the bow part slipping forward into the lagoon. All +sorts of things were cast ashore that day,—but, say, there isn’t +anything in the Robinson Crusoe business. There was about fifty tons +of wreckage and cargo scattered over the beach, but I couldn’t do +anything with wood and hardware, and I had all I could do to find grub +enough for a square meal. Later I found more.” + +“Did any of the gold cases come ashore?” asked Elliott. + +“Oh, no. They were too heavy. But in a day or so, when the weather had +gone down, I rafted myself out to the wreck on some spars. But the +forward half of the ship was sunk in about eight fathoms; it just +showed above the surface, and I couldn’t get at the hold. The stern +part was out of water and I rummaged around for something to eat, but +everything was spoiled by the salt water. + +“Well, I was on that blessed island for ten days, living mostly on +salt pork and London gin, for that was about all I could find that +wasn’t spoiled by the sun or the water. It was furiously hot, and the +only fresh water I had was a big pool of rainwater, that was drying up +every day. Twice I saw steamer smokes to the northwest, and I knew +that I was away out of the track of navigation, so at last I went to +work and built a raft out of driftwood, and loaded all my gin and pork +and fresh water on board. I rigged up a sail, and even if I wasn’t +picked up I felt pretty sure that I could fetch the Madagascar coast, +anyway. + +“But I drifted around for six days. There was a strong current and a +breeze, sometimes both going the same way and sometimes not, and I +don’t know exactly where they carried me, but eventually an English +mail-steamer sighted me and picked me up. She was going to Sydney, so +I must have floated away up to the northeast of Madagascar. I told +them that the _Clara McClay_ had foundered at sea, gone down in deep +water, so as to put her completely beyond investigation, and I thought +I felt my fingers on those gold bricks. + +“When we got to Sydney, I shipped on a Pacific Mail boat for the +United States, and, as I’ve told you, I struck out at once for +Nashville to pick up the rest of my party, for I knew that they were +there during the latter part of the winter, and should be there yet. + +“You see we always acted together, and, besides, this was too big a +game for me to play alone. It would take a regular naval expedition +and a lot of capital to fish up all that yellow stuff, but if I could +locate the three men I was after I knew we could rustle the expenses +somehow. We’ve been through some big deals together, mostly in Mexico +and Honduras, where there’s always devilment and disturbances. +Well—that’s all. I can’t go to Nashville now, but this thing can’t +wait. Some one will be back after that gold if there was any one else +saved from the _Clara McClay_.” + +“The question is, who does this gold belong to?” said Elliott. + +“It doesn’t belong to anybody. It was stolen, in the first place, from +the Transvaal Republic. Well, there isn’t any Transvaal Republic any +more. Besides, it’s treasure-trove—sunk on the high seas. Don’t worry +about that, but listen to me. I don’t know where that island is, but I +think I know more than any one else alive, and you can surely locate +it from what I’ve told you. You’ll go to Nashville, and tell the boys +just the story I’ve told you. They’ll take you in on it, of course, +and they’ll do the square thing by me, same as if I was with them.” + +Bennett stopped, looking both exhausted and excited, and he fixed his +unnaturally bright eyes upon Elliott with a penetrating gaze. + +“I’ll go,” said Elliott, “certainly. Who are your men, and where’ll I +find them?” + +“Likely at the best hotel in Nashville. Inquire at the Arcadia saloon, +or the Crackerjack. If they’re not in Nashville you can find out where +they’re gone, and follow them up. Their names—better note them down: +John Henninger (he’s an Englishman), C. W. Hawke, Will Sullivan. Hand +me that writing-tablet. + +“What’s your first name?” continued Bennett, and he scrawled painfully +with his left hand: + + “Introducing Mr. Wingate Elliott. He’s all right. + + L. R. Bennett.” + +“There’s a package of evidence under my pillow,” continued the wounded +adventurer. “Pull it out.” + +Elliott extracted a crumpled envelope, bulging with a small, hard +lump. This proved to be something wrapped in many folds of soft +tissue-paper, and when unrolled Elliott saw a bright, pyramid-shaped +bit of yellow metal, about the size of a beechnut. + +Elliott walked away from the hospital feeling a little giddy and +light-headed at the sudden prospect of fortune. The enterprise was a +legitimate one. The gold had belonged to the Transvaal Government, and +that government was no longer in existence. Who was its owner? Was it +Great Britain? But Elliott was a Democrat and a strong supporter of +the independence of the South African Republics, and he could not +acknowledge any claim of the Crown. At any rate, the finders of the +treasure-ship would be entitled to a heavy salvage. + +But at the memory of Margaret he stopped short on the street in +perplexity. What would she say? This was the very sort of adventure +that he had promised to avoid. If she were there; if she knew all, and +if she told him to drop it, he felt a conviction that he would drop it +without hesitation. But yet—he walked on again—this was a legitimate +salving enterprise, and he had never met one which offered so fair +rewards. + +The gold was really no man’s. No one knew where it was; and with a +chilling shock he recollected that he did not himself know where it +was. But no matter; it could surely be located; and in default of any +better method, they could visit every island in the Mozambique Channel +till they found the bones of the unlucky _Clara McClay_. + +So he wrote to Margaret that night, saying that he was going to +Nashville, on the prospect of a _legitimate_—he underlined legitimate; +the word pleased him—enterprise which promised money. + +Naturally he said nothing about his finances; he promised to write +again as soon as anything definite had happened, and hinted that he +might meet her at the depot when she arrived in Baltimore. When the +letter was posted he felt more at ease with himself. Almost penniless +as he was, his imagination already rioted among millions, and with the +yellow gleam flickering before his eyes he prepared to beat his way to +Nashville. + + + + + CHAPTER V. THE ACE OF DIAMONDS + + +Elliott reached Nashville in two days, being lucky enough to catch a +fast freight-train which carried him half the distance in a single +night. For the last twenty miles he travelled on a passenger-train, +paying his fare, to preclude the danger of arrest as he came into the +great railway yards, and the consciousness of safety in the face of +the police seemed to him almost an odd and unfamiliar sensation. + +It was early in the forenoon when he walked up the incline of the +ill-paved street that reminded him of St. Joseph. He inquired for the +Arcadia saloon; he found it on Cherry Street, and within the +swing-doors it was cool and dusky, sparkling with glass and marble, +and vibrating with electric fans. Two or three prosperous-looking +Southerners were sipping through straws from glasses crowned with +green leaves and crushed fruit, but Elliott contented himself with a +glass of beer, and asked the bartender if he knew Mr. Henninger, or +where he was to be found. + +“Sure,” said the mixer of drinks. “He’s been stoppin’ at the Hotel +Orleans, and I reckon you’ll find him there now. If he ain’t there no +more, ask for Mr. Hawke, and he’ll likely know something about him.” + +Hawke was one of the names Bennett had mentioned, and this small +circumstance, or perhaps it was the beer, raised Elliott’s hopes. He +finished his glass, and went straight to the Hotel Orleans, which was +three blocks away. + +The great lobby was full of leather-covered sofas and easy-chairs, and +floored with handsome mosaic, and perhaps a score of men were smoking +or reading newspapers. It was clearly a good hotel, and Bennett had +said that his friends would be at the best hotel in town. Elliott +looked over the register, and, not immediately finding the names he +sought, he spoke to the clerk, who did not take the trouble to conceal +his contempt of Elliott’s disreputable appearance. + +“Yes,” he said, curtly. “That’s Mr. Henninger sitting by the window, +in the gray suit.” + +Elliott walked over to the man indicated. He was young, probably not +over thirty-five, dark-faced, strong-featured, with a suspicion of +military severity and exactitude. His costume of hard gray tweed had +evidently come from the hands of a first-rate tailor, and he was +smoking a cigar which he never removed from his teeth, and looking +through the great window with an air of reserved boredom. Elliott, as +he approached, felt himself suddenly covered with a glance that was +like the muzzle of a revolver. + +“Mr. Henninger?” he inquired, pausing. + +The man in gray looked him over for another instant, and then replied, +frigidly: + +“Yes.” + +Elliott, who did not particularly care for this reception, handed him +Bennett’s note without another word. Henninger took it, and as he +opened it leisurely Elliott was struck by the shape of the hand that +held it. It was the hand of a pianist, a hand that had never worked, +white, long-fingered, thin, but looking all nerves and muscles, as if +strung with steel wires. + +Henninger read the note, and examined it very closely. Then he glanced +up at Elliott again with a slight smile, and held out his hand. + +“I’m glad to meet you, Mr. Elliott,” he said. “Sit down. What’s the +matter with Bennett, and where is he?” + +“He’s in the hospital in St. Louis. He got rather badly hurt—by a +train.” There were half a dozen men within earshot, and Elliott +thought it best to avoid details. “He was coming here to see you when +it happened. It seems there’s something doing.” + +He looked at Henninger, who returned the glance impenetrably. + +“I’ve a message from him, but it’ll take some time to tell it. He also +wished Mr. Hawke and Mr. Sullivan to hear it.” + +Henninger turned to a man sitting close to him, who had been listening +with all his ears, much to Elliott’s annoyance. + +“This is Mr. Hawke.” + +Hawke was a younger man than the Englishman, shorter, lighter, with a +pleasant face and a light boyish moustache, like Elliott’s own. But +there were the same hard lines about the mouth and nostrils, and the +same level, aggressive gaze that Henninger possessed, so that at +moments the unlike faces took on a curious similarity. + +“Sullivan isn’t in the city,” said Henninger, “but we know where he +is. It’s all the same thing. But if we’re going to talk we’d better go +up to my room.” + +It was a good room, at the front on the second floor, and as Elliott +surveyed its luxurious appointments he felt sure that the party must +be in funds, after all. A bell-boy presently came in with a tray, a +bottle, a siphon of seltzer, and a box of cigars. + +In the midst of this unexpected luxury, and feeling conscious of his +own shabbiness, Elliott told the story of the wreck of the _Clara +McClay_, making reference to his notes, and at the end producing the +little prism of gold that Bennett had cut from the brick. At the first +mention of the treasure Elliott caught an involuntary glance flashed +between Henninger and Hawke that was like the discharge of an electric +spark, but neither made any comment till the tale was finished. + +Then Henninger poured out a spoonful of whiskey, brimmed up the +tumbler from the fizzing siphon, and sipped it slowly, meditatively. + +“Confound it, what do you think?” burst out Hawke, who was wriggling +with excitement. + +“I think we’d better telegraph to Sullivan,” replied Henninger, +putting down the glass. “And I’ll wire Bennett, too—without any +reflection upon your veracity, Elliott. Now, look here,” he went on, +with increasing animation, “as it looks now, there may be a good thing +in this, but first of all we don’t know anything. We don’t know where +that wreck is. Seems to me that Bennett might have taken some kind of +bearings. Now some one who knows more than we do may get there first.” + +“It looks to me as if that mate was up to something,” said Hawke. + +“Very much so. The question is, whether he got away. Bennett said he +was hurt. If he did escape, you can bet he’ll come back, and there’s +been a lot of time lost already.” + +“Well, now,” Elliott interrupted, “if you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave +you. I’m afraid I’m embarrassing your councils, and I’ve got a long +road to Baltimore.” + +“But, hold on!” ejaculated Hawke. “You’re in this. Ain’t he, +Henninger?” + +Henninger looked at Elliott again, with the same acutely penetrative +scrutiny as at first, a manner not unfriendly, but coldly analytical. + +“Yes, he’s in it, if he cares to come in,” he answered, finally. “But +you must understand, Elliott, what sort of a game this is. Everything +may be all right, or not. It looks to me now as if those meat-cases +didn’t belong much to anybody, but that much gold never goes +unclaimed, and somebody is liable to turn up and want them. We may +have to fight for it; they may bring in international law, though +we’ve a right to salvage, anyway. There’s a risk of imprisonment; +there’s risk of sudden death. We’re not men that deal in the crooked; +straight work, with big profits and big chances, is our line, but +we’re not men to stick at little things either, when there’s a heavy +stake up.” + +“It seems to me that you are trying to frighten me,” said Elliott. + +“I am trying to frighten you. If I can do it, we don’t want you in +this at all, or you’ll queer the whole thing. But if you’re game, if +you understand what it is, and still want to come in—why, come along, +and we’ll be glad to have you.” + +“Thanks,” replied Elliott. “I was just waiting to be formally invited. +I’ve figured up all the risks already, and in my present financial +state I’d take bigger risks for less money. And that reminds me that I +must tell you that I can’t put any capital in this scheme. I’m down to +my last dollar, and I’ve broken that.” + +Hawke began to laugh. “We’re all in the same boat, then. There’s my +pile,” pulling out two or three bills, and a little silver. “I’ll bet +it all that Henninger can’t match it.” + +“But,” Elliott exclaimed, “this room!—and those cigars were perfectos! +Do you find Southern hospitality go that length?” + +“Not at all; it’s pure business. Universal credit is what has made the +prosperity of this great country. We came; we looked respectable, and +we stayed; and as long as we keep up appearances, and spend a little +over the bar, they’re shy about presenting any bills too forcibly. It +cuts both ways, though, for we’d have been glad to get away from here +a long time ago, if we could. But we can’t take away our baggage, and +without our trunks we couldn’t keep up appearances anywhere; without +our appearances, we might as well be hoboes, or honest workmen. A man +is no better than his coat. I’m not hitting at you,” he added, +quickly. + +“Oh, I don’t mind,” Elliott assured him. “I’ve got a trunk full of +respectable raiment in Baltimore. I’ll send for it.” He laughed too, +as the piquancy of the situation struck him. “I don’t know how I’ll +get them out of the express office, though. What dazes me is how you +fellows expect to chase this million with the capital we have. We +need, goodness knows how many hundreds, or thousands. How will you +raise it—borrow it? Work for it?” + +“Hardly. Play for it,” replied Hawke, without hesitation. + +It was consistent. As Elliott looked at him, he was struck by the fact +that these men never did anything but gamble, staking their fortunes +or their lives with equal alacrity, generally with the odds against +them, and generally with the dice loaded against them also. He had +done the same thing himself, and he had promised Margaret to do it no +more. But— + +“We’d been thinking of something of the sort before you came,” Hawke +was saying, “so as to finish things one way or the other, and this +decides it. We’ll need a lot of money—oh, a devil of a lot. We’ll have +to fit out a regular expedition, hire a small ship of some sort, get +diving apparatus, and all sorts of things. Five thousand dollars is +the very minimum. Let’s see how much we can raise.” + +He emptied his pockets on the table; there was a little more than +fifteen dollars. Henninger, after much rummaging, produced eleven. + +“I’ve got ninety-five cents,” said Elliott. “Let it go into the pot, +too.” + +“Good,” said Hawke. “Total, twenty-seven dollars. Now, that’s a sum +that’s of no use to any man, much less to three men. Just on general +principles we might as well get rid of it, and get the agony over. But +see what we can do with it; we’ll just go over to Nolan’s place, at +the Crackerjack, and put up our little twenty-seven on the wheel, till +we make or break. Why, I knew a man in Louisville who started with a +dollar and broke the game. I didn’t see it myself.” + +“None of us ever saw those things done,” remarked Henninger, who was +listening with a dry smile. “But you’re right, I believe. It’s the +only chance I see, for Sullivan can’t possibly do anything for us in +time. Who’s to do the playing? Who’s got the luck?” + +“I haven’t,” said Elliott, with conviction. “I tried it in St. Joe.” + +Henninger opened a small grip and took out an elaborate morocco case. +There were rows of ivory poker chips in it, and a dainty, gilt-edged +pack of playing-cards. + +“A few poker hands will show who’s in the vein,” he remarked, and +began to deal the cards. + +From the first Hawke was by far the most fortunate, and when, upon the +last deal, he held a spade flush without drawing it was apparent to +all three that he was unconsciously in the enjoyment of a special vein +of luck. With a pleasing degree of confidence in this act of +divination, they handed over to him the entire capital of the +syndicate. Hawke looked a little overwhelmed at the responsibility. + +“We’ll go up with you, but we’ll leave you absolutely to yourself,” +said Henninger. “Play just as the fancy takes you, but play high and +fast. Hit the luck before it turns; that’s the only chance of making +anything.” + +The Crackerjack’s first floor was occupied by a marble and silver +saloon, and above this was the gambling establishment,—an immense, +cool, heavily curtained room, with shaded electric lamps above the +tables that glittered with their devices in red and black and green +and nickel. Overhead a dozen electric fans vibrated noiselessly. + +Eight or ten players were standing in a semicircle at the big “crap” +table. Each man, as he rolled the dice, snapped his fingers violently +in the air and emitted an explosive “Hah!” which is supposed to aid in +turning the winning number. Behind the table stood the suave employees +of the game. They did not snap their fingers; they made no +ejaculations—but they won. + +The roulette-table was deserted; it is not a favourite game in the +South, and the croupier was lazily spinning the ball to keep up an +appearance of activity. Hawke bought twenty-seven dollars’ worth of +white checks and settled himself on a stool, while Henninger and +Elliott walked over to the crap-table and stood looking on, to leave +him entirely open to the promptings of his “vein.” + +They heard the sharp, diminuendo whirr of the ball begin, but they did +not look around. “Whirr-rr! click!” + +“That’s the four of hearts and the second twelve,” said the croupier. + +Elliott was astonished to hear a card thus called instead of a number, +but Henninger explained in an undertone that, to evade the laws of +Tennessee, all the roulette-wheels in the State are marked with the +spots of the four suits of cards, up to the nines, instead of the +usual thirty-six numbers. This naïve accommodation is supposed to +satisfy at once the demands of justice and of sport, though it does +not always save a gaming-house from being raided by the police. + +They did not know whether Hawke had lost or won, and they did not +look, but they heard the rattle of checks, and the whirr recommence. +For a time that seemed endless—perhaps it was half an hour—this went +on. Henninger and Elliott tried to interest themselves in the fortunes +of the crap game. They glanced over the newspapers. They walked +restlessly about, smoked, peeped through the curtains at the street, +tried to talk, and fell silent at every sound from the table where +destiny was being spun out for them at the gay roulette. + +Evidently Hawke was not yet wiped out. Was he winning? They did not +know; they dared not look, listening to the whiz and click of the +wheel, and dreading to see the player return suddenly empty-handed. + +Finally the strain became unendurable, and Henninger turned and walked +straight to the roulette-table. Elliott followed him, and bit off a +half-uttered ejaculation as he caught sight of the board. + +Hawke was sitting behind a rampart of stacked checks. He had trebled +and quadrupled his capital already; his stakes were scattered all over +the board, and just as they came up he won again with a heavy play on +the second dozen numbers. There was a high flush on his cheeks; he had +laid down his cigar and forgotten it, but his face was full of the +bright certainty of the gambler who is playing in luck and knows it; +and he placed his stakes about the layout as unhesitatingly as a +system-player. + +Henninger and Elliott carefully avoided meeting his eye, and watched +the spinning wheel. Click. + +“The five of spades,” announced the croupier. + +The number had been “hit all round.” There were checks on it full, and +more on its corners, and Hawke built another tier of his rampart with +the proceeds of the coup. + +The atmosphere of the gaming-room is telepathic. The “crap-shooters” +becoming aware that a “killing” was in progress, abandoned their game +and came to look on in silence, some of them following Hawke’s +ventures with small stakes. + +And still the player won. He cleared the rack of white checks and +bought blue ones. With the change he was met by a reverse, and lost +heavily for some minutes, but the luck returned, and he seemed in a +fair way to empty the rack again. + +Again and again the numbers were squarely hit. When he lost he boldly +doubled his stake; he plunged recklessly on the most improbable +combinations, and the ivory ball, as if he had magnetized it, spun +unerringly to the chosen number. Round the table no one spoke but the +croupier; no one looked at anything but the board and the gaudy wheel. +Even those spectators who had no stake in the game were as breathless +as the rest. It was the sort of luck by which games are broken, and +presently the proprietor, Nolan himself, came up and watched the +struggle, silent and grave, with a slightly worried expression. + +There was another ten minutes of ill-fortune which sadly reduced +Hawke’s store. Henninger, anxiously following the play, wondered if +the run of luck were not exhausted—whether it would not be better to +leave off. But as yet scarcely four hundred dollars had been won. Win +or lose, the game must go on. + +Whiz—whirr-r-r—click! “It’s the ace of diamonds,” said the croupier, +leaning over the wheel. There was a dollar check upon the winning +square, and the croupier paid out the due thirty-five upon it. These +Hawke nonchalantly allowed to remain upon the number that had just +come up. + +Round spun the ball for endless seconds. Click! + +“The ace of diamonds repeats,” declared the croupier. The big stake +had won. The croupier was working for a salary, and the result made no +difference to him, but even he was affected by the pervading +excitement, and he showed it as he set himself to count out the stacks +of red checks necessary to pay the heavy winning—a little less than +thirteen hundred dollars. + +With hands that trembled a little Hawke raked the checks together into +a solid mass upon the same number once more, and the ball recommenced +its swift circling. It was the highest play that the Crackerjack had +ever seen. Nolan put out his hand as if to refuse the stake, and then +withdrew it again, but his eyes puckered under his hat-brim. The +spectators gathered closer round; a third appearance of the ace of +diamonds would win almost fifty thousand dollars, and would +undoubtedly break the bank, if not bankrupt the proprietor. + +“Great heavens! he’s pyramiding on the ace of diamonds again!” gasped +Elliott, in a fright, as soon as he understood; and Henninger turned a +savage face upon him for silence. But Hawke had caught the whisper. He +glanced up irresolutely, and, before the ball had slackened speed, he +swept three-fourths of the checks across the table and upon the simple +red. The rest, about three hundred dollars’ worth, remained upon the +lucky ace of diamonds. + +But he had changed his play, and every gambler at the table mentally +predicted disaster from the ill-omened act. A man who had been about +to follow his stake with a five-dollar bill, thrust it back into his +pocket. + +Round spun the ball, circling the slow-moving wheel. Every eye was +fixed upon the little ivory sphere that rolled and rolled as if it +would never stop—then gradually lost momentum, gravitated toward the +bottom, and tripped on a barrier. The iron-nerved Henninger bit his +cigar in two, and it dropped unnoticed from his lips. The ball jumped, +rolled across an arc of the wheel, and dropped into a compartment with +a click. + +“By God, he hits it!” ejaculated a looker-on, irrepressibly. + +“You win, sir. It’s the ace of diamonds for the third time!” said the +croupier, with a nervous smile, glancing at Nolan. “I’m afraid you’ll +have to cash in some of those checks. I haven’t enough left to pay the +bet.” + +Hawke nodded, but Henninger leaned forward. + +“No more,” he said, in an undertone to Hawke. “We’re through. We’ve +got what we needed, and more. We’re a syndicate, Charley,” he +explained to the croupier, “and Mr. Hawke was playing for us all.” + +“Shut up!” said Hawke, in a feverish whisper. “This is the chance of +our lives. It’s the chance of our lives, I tell you. I’m going to +wreck this game before I get up.” + +“No, you’re not. You’re going to stop right now,” responded Henninger. +“Pull yourself together, man; you’re drunk. Tell him you want to cash +in.” + +The two men glared at each other for a moment, the one flushed, the +other deadly pale, and Hawke slowly came to himself. + +“I guess you’re right, old man,” with a nervous giggle. “How much have +I won? Charley, I reckon I’ll cash in.” + +On this last and greatest coup a thousand dollars had been won on the +colour, and a trifle over ten thousand on the number, and besides +this, Hawke had several hundred dollars’ worth of checks from his +previous winnings. Nolan himself counted the checks, stacking them +back in place. The total amount was eleven thousand, seven hundred and +thirty-eight dollars. + +Nolan took the loss like a veteran book-maker. “I’ll have to send out +to the bank, gentlemen,” he said. “While you’re waiting, give the boy +your orders.” + +“No, this is on us,” said Henninger. “Everybody take something on our +luck. Nothing but Pommery’ll moisten it.” + +Nolan submitted gracefully. “I won’t deny that you do owe me a drink. +I’ve been in this business, here and on the turf, about all my life, +but I never did see anything like that run. I was glad when Mr. Hawke +cashed in—and that’s no lie.” + +Hawke was growing as pale as he had been red, and the champagne glass +trembled in his fingers. The two who had not played, suffering no +reaction, were scarcely able to subdue their spirits to a +sportsmanlike decorum. The money came, and Nolan counted it out in a +thick green package—the weapon that was to win the drowned million as +the twenty-seven dollars had won this. And yet, as Elliott looked at +the hundred-dollar bills he felt a sudden shock of belated terror. It +was only then that he realized what loss would have meant,—and it had +been such a near thing! + + + + + CHAPTER VI. THE MYSTERY OF THE MATE + + +Elliott awoke next morning with an uneasy head and a feverish taste in +his mouth, and looked vaguely around the unfamiliar hotel chamber +without being able to recall how he had come there. It was only +yesterday that he had been riding surreptitiously in box cars. But as +his brain cleared he remembered the splendid and joyous dinner that +had closed the day before, a misty glitter of glass and silver and +delicious wines and cigars. That recalled his new friends and his +message to them, and then the whole transformation of his fortunes +flashed back upon him—the miraculous winning at roulette, the treasure +trail; and, wide awake instantly, he jumped out of bed in a flush of +excitement. + +He found a new suit of clothes on a chair, which he now recollected +having bought ready-made on the previous afternoon. They were very +good clothes and fitted well, and in the trousers pocket he found a +thick wad of bills. Each of the partners had taken a hundred dollars, +and the rest of the money was in a sealed package in the hotel safe. + +In the dining-room he found Henninger and Hawke finishing breakfast, +though it was nearly eleven o’clock. Hawke looked wearied and nervous, +with the rags of yesterday’s excitement still clinging about him, but +Henninger was as fresh, as neat, and as unmoved as ever. A few other +late breakfasters at the other end of the room looked at the trio with +curiosity, for the report of their coup, greatly magnified in the +telling, had gone abroad; and the negro waiter served them with +exaggerated respect. + +In the lobby Elliott bought himself the best cigar he had ever smoked, +luxuriating in the novel sense of riches, which was like a sudden +relief from pain. He had never felt so wealthy in his life. The money +had come with such incredible ease; the sum looked almost +inexhaustible; and beyond it was the great treasure to be fished up +from the African seas. + +There were too many people in the lobby for private conversation, and +they returned to Henninger’s room. + +“First of all, I vote we send Bennett a hundred dollars. I kept it out +for him when I sealed the money last night,” said Henninger. “I’ll +wire him what we’ve done, and then I’ll wire Sullivan. I don’t know +that we told you, Elliott, where Sullivan is. He’s in Washington, +attending to a case for us. We were all in South America last winter, +and we’ve got a claim against the Venezuelan government for damages +and confiscation of property, and so forth, for two millions.” + +“Two what?” exclaimed Elliott. + +“Two millions. We thought we might get a few thousands out of it. +Anyway, Sullivan has been trying to get our case taken up at +Washington, but we’ll drop all that and tell him to meet us in New +York.” + +“I’d like very much to look up that Madagascar channel on the largest +map there is,” Hawke broke in, “and see what we can make of it.” + +He voiced a common desire. Every one wanted to look at it, and they +went down to the Public Library and obtained a gigantic atlas. They +propped it up on a table and put their heads together over the map of +East Africa. The steamer route from Delagoa Bay to Zanzibar and Suez +was marked in red, and at the northern end of the Mozambique Channel +it passed through a tangle of little islands and reefs. + +“Comoro, Mohilla, Mayotta, St. Lazarus Bank,” read Hawke, under his +breath. “It must be one of these.” + +They all gazed at the archipelago, two thumbs’ width on the paper that +represented a hundred sea leagues. Somewhere among these islands lay +the treasure that had cost the lives of a ship’s company already, and +as he stared at the brown and yellow spots, Elliott saw in excited +imagination the barren islands on the sunny tropical ocean, and the +spray spouting high over the reefs where the sea-birds wheeled about +the iron skeleton of the _Clara McClay_. There was the end of the +rainbow; there was the golden magnet that had already stirred the +passions of men on the other side of the world; and as he looked at +the lettered surface of the map, he felt a sudden cold prescience of +tragedy. + +“Glorioso, Farquahar!” murmured Hawke. “They surely couldn’t have run +so far out of their course as that. St. Lazarus is my choice, and, if +I’m right, we’ll make it St. Dives.” + +“We don’t know enough yet to make this any use,” said Henninger, +suddenly. “Let’s get out.” + +The sight of the map and its hundreds of miles of islands and seas did +in fact bring the problem into concrete reality, and forcibly +emphasized the difficulties. They all felt somewhat downcast and +vaguely disappointed, but, as they were going down the steps, Elliott +had an inspiration. + +“It occurs to me,” he said, “that if anybody escaped in the boats, +they must have been picked up somewhere at sea. In that case, the fact +is likely to be reported in some newspaper, isn’t it?” + +“What have we been thinking of?” exclaimed Henninger. “You’re right, +of course. The New York _Herald_ should have it, as she was an +American ship. We’ll go back and look through the files of the +_Herald_, if they have them, for the last few months.” + +The papers were bound up by months, and each man took a volume and sat +down to run through the shipping news. Elliott finished his without +finding anything, and obtained another file. He was half through this +when Hawke tiptoed over to him. + +“Here’s where Bennett appears,” he whispered. + +It was a four-line telegram from Sydney, stating that a seaman named +Bennett had been picked up from a raft in the Indian Ocean, reporting +that the American steamer _Clara McClay_ had foundered with all hands +in the Mozambique Channel. + +There was nothing new in this, but it seemed somehow encouraging, and +while Elliott was reading it, Henninger came over to them. His eyes +were sparkling, and he looked as if holding some strong emotion in +check. He laid down his file before them, and put his finger on a +paragraph, dated more than a fortnight earlier than the despatch from +Sydney. + + “Bombay, March 19. + + “The Italian steamer _Andrea Sforzia_, arriving yesterday + from Cape Town and Durban, reports having picked up on the + 10th about one hundred miles N. E. of Cape Amber, a boat + containing First Mate Burke, of the steamer _Clara + McClay_, of Philadelphia. He stated that his ship + foundered in deep water in the Mozambique Channel by + reason of heavy weather and shifting of cargo, and + believes himself to be the only survivor. He was almost + unconscious, and nearly dead of thirst when rescued. + + “The _Clara McClay_ was an iron steamer of 2,500 tons, + built at Greenock in 1869, and has been for some years + engaged in the East and West African coast trade. She was + owned by S. Jacobs and Son, of Philadelphia, and commanded + by Captain Elihu Cox.” + +The two men read this item, and Elliott, glancing up, saw his +mystification reflected on Hawke’s face. What new development did it +indicate that Bennett and the mate should have told the same falsehood +about the sinking of the _Clara McClay_, and certainly without +collusion? Henninger meanwhile was carefully copying the paragraph +into a note-book, and when he had finished, he gathered up the papers, +returned them to the librarian’s desk, and led the way out of the +building. + +“We’ve got a line on it at last,” he said, when they were in the open +air, and there was a keen eagerness in his usually impassive voice. + +“It’s clear that the mate was saved, but it don’t help us to find the +island, so far as I can see,” Hawke objected. + +“Oh, the island—confound it!” as they came into the crowds of Church +Street. “Let’s go somewhere where we can talk.” And he shut his mouth +and did not open it again till they were placed comfortably in a small +German café, which happened to be almost empty. + +“You don’t seem to understand,” he then resumed. “The mate lied,—said +the ship sunk in deep water, didn’t he? He told the same story as +Bennett. Why? For the same reason. He must have known the bullion was +there, after all. He took chances on being the only survivor of the +wreck, and he wanted to choke off any inquiry. There’s never any +search for a wreck that goes down in a hundred fathoms.” + +“But there were other survivors,” said Elliott. “There were others in +that boat with him when Bennett saw them sailing away. That must have +been the mate’s boat, and what became of the others?” + +“Ah, yes,—what?” replied Henninger, grimly. “He was alone when he was +picked up.” + +There was a moment’s silence at this sudden apparition of the crimson +thread in the tangle. + +“This is the way I see the story,” said Henninger. “That mate—what’s +his name—Burke?—knew the gold was on board. How he found out, I don’t +know. Whether he accidentally ran the steamer out of her course that +night, or whether he piled her up intentionally, I don’t know, either. +He may have done it by reason of his jag, or he may have tanked up to +give himself courage to carry it through. I suspect it was the latter. +Anyhow, when she was smashed, he saw his chance, for he reckoned that +his was the only boat to get away safe. He had several men with him, +but they seem to pass out of the story. He was picked up, carried to +Bombay; he lied about the wreck. + +“What does he do next? Why, of course he gets ready to go back to +Zanzibar or some such port and hire a craft to go to look for his +wreck. If he thinks he’s safe, he may lie low for awhile; or, if he +hasn’t the capital for the thing, he will have to hunt up some +ruffians to finance him. But if he thinks that he’s in any danger of +being forestalled, he’ll make haste. If by bad luck he reads of +Bennett’s being picked up, it’ll galvanize him; and as like as not +he’s sailing up the channel this minute, while we’re sitting here +drinking lager, doing nothing—because we don’t know anything!” + +“Yes, but how are we going to find out anything,—where the wreck is, +for example?” demanded Elliott. + +“Why, from this same mate, Burke, if we can catch him. He’s the source +of knowledge. He knows very well where it is; if he didn’t, he +wouldn’t have taken the trouble to lie about it. First of all, we’ve +got to catch that mate, and when we’ve got him, we’ll induce him to +tell us what he knows. Do you remember how Casal used to interrogate +prisoners in Venezuela, Hawke? We’ve got to get on his trail right +away, and meanwhile see that he doesn’t collar the cash before we know +it.” + +“It’ll be a long, wide trail,” Hawke remarked. + +“No. There’s only one hemisphere for Burke, and only one spot in it, +and that’s somewhere between Madagascar and the African coast. He +won’t go far from that if he can help it, and wherever he goes he’s +bound to come back. And he’ll have to come in his own ship, for there +aren’t any steamers plying to his island. He’ll have to hire or buy a +small craft on the East African coast, and there are only three ports +that will serve.” + +Henninger sipped his beer, and meditated in silence for a little. + +“My idea would be something like this. Three of us will go to South +Africa at once; we pick up Sullivan in New York, of course. One of us +will post himself in each of those three ports,—Lorenzo Marques, +Mozambique, and Zanzibar, watching every boat that comes in, every +stranger that lands, and everything that goes on along the waterfront. +If Burke turns up, our man will have to use his own judgment as to how +to get hold of him,—bribe him or kidnap him, or anything, but keep him +there at any cost till the rest of us can come. Meanwhile the fourth +one of us will go to Bombay, and try to find out where Burke went and +what he did. He might possibly be there yet; anyway, he must have left +some trace at the consulate or the shipping-offices.” + +“At any rate,” said Elliott, “it appears fairly certain that no one +knows anything about this ton of yellow metal but ourselves and the +mate, Burke. Then there’s no danger of outside interference.” + +“It’s a fair race to Madagascar!” Hawke exclaimed. + +“It’s a race,” said Henninger, shrugging his shoulders, “but I don’t +know about its fairness. We’re heavily handicapped at the start. Why +we’re wasting time here, I don’t know.” He stood up suddenly, +frowning, impatient. + +“Sit down and finish your cigar,” Hawke advised him. “There’s no train +for New York till nine o’clock to-night.” + +“Yes, and there’s no fast steamer for South African ports at all. +We’ll do best to sail for England, I fancy. Then the man who is going +to India can take the P. and O., and the rest of us will go by the +Union Castle Line to the Cape.” + +“But which of us is going to India?” Elliott inquired. + +“I don’t know.” Henninger glanced calculatingly at his companions. +“I’d like to go to Zanzibar myself, if you don’t mind, because I +suspect that it’s the dangerous point; and Sullivan should take +Lorenzo Marques, because he was there once, and he knows something of +the place. The shadowing lies between you two, as far as I can see.” + +“I’ll match you for it,” proposed Hawke. + +Elliott pulled out a quarter and spun it on the table, turning up +tail. Hawke followed, and lost. + +“I’m to be the tracker, then,” said Elliott. “I’m afraid I’ll make a +poor sleuth. I wish Bennett had given us a description of the mate, +for he has probably changed his name.” + +“So do I. I’d like to have time to run up to St. Louis and talk it +over with Bennett. I’d like a lot of things that we haven’t time for. +Bennett can’t write with a broken arm, so there’s no use in writing to +him for more details. But, as a matter of fact, I don’t really expect +that you’ll come up with this man Burke at all. What I do hope is that +you’ll find out where he went when he left Bombay, and if by chance he +hired any kind of vessel anywhere, and in general what he was doing. +We’ve got to get our information from him, there’s no doubt of that.” + +“And what about Bennett?” Elliott inquired, after a pause. “How is he +to come into the game?” + +“The chances are that the game will be played before his arm’s +mended,” said Henninger. “We’ll send him a hundred, as I suggested,—or +let’s make it three hundred,—and of course he’ll share and share alike +with the rest of us. I think I’d better write him to go to San +Francisco as soon as he’s able to travel, if he hasn’t heard from us +in the meantime, and hold himself in readiness there to join us. +Frisco’ll be the most convenient port, and he can cable us his address +as soon as he gets there.” + +“And I reckon we’d better telegraph to New York for staterooms,” Hawke +suggested. “The east-bound steamers are always crowded at this time of +year.” + +They sent the despatch at once to Cook’s agency, asking simply to get +to Liverpool or Southampton at the earliest date possible, expense +being no consideration. At the same time Henninger both telegraphed +and wrote to Bennett; and Elliott wired to the express company in +Baltimore to have his trunk placed in storage for him till his return. + +He had gone too far now upon the treasure trail to turn back, and +indeed he would not have turned back if he could. It was really the +romance of the adventure that fascinated him, though he did not think +so. He told himself that it was a legitimate enterprise—he clung to +the phrase—with a reasonable expectation of large profits. But in no +manner could he see his way to write a complete explanation of his +plans to Margaret; if he could have talked to her, he thought, it +would be easy. He composed a letter to her that afternoon, however, in +which he remarked negligently that he was going to India on a +commission for other parties, with all expenses paid, and would +probably not be back to America before autumn. At the end of the +letter, forgetting his precaution, he hinted of a vast fortune which +was scarcely out of reach,—an imprudence which he afterward regretted. + +The party left Nashville that night, and, as the train rolled out of +range of the last electric lights, Hawke drew a long breath. + +“I did begin to think we were never going to get away from that town,” +he sighed. “It looked like we were in pawn to the Hotel Orleans for +the rest of our lives.” + +Henninger smiled queerly. “Since we are fairly away, I don’t mind +telling you,” he said, “that the manager and I discussed the matter +last week. I explained that we were waiting for a large remittance +that was overdue, but it would certainly be here in a day or two; we +expected it by every mail. He gave it four days to arrive,—then we’d +leave or be thrown out. Elliott turned up on the last day.” + + + + + CHAPTER VII. THE INDISCRETION OF HENNINGER + + +There was no time to spare in New York. The party went straight to an +obscure but remarkably comfortable hotel near Washington Square, which +Hawke recommended, and here they found Sullivan waiting for them. He +had come up from Washington upon receiving his telegram, without +knowing definitely what the projected enterprise was to be. + +Sullivan was apparently a trifle older than Hawke, and unusually +good-looking. He was smooth-shaven, rather thin-faced, and he +exhibited in a marked degree that mingling of icy self-possession and +electrical alacrity that has come to be a sort of typical New York +manner. He was very accurately dressed, and wore a gold pince-nez. He +looked straight at you with a penetrating and impenetrable eye; he +spoke with an unusually distinct articulation. He seemed to be +perpetually regarding the world with a faint smile that was compounded +of superiority, indifference, and cynicism. In reality, his mental +attitude was far from either cynicism or indifference, but it took +some time to find this out. His general appearance vaguely suggested +that he might be a very rapidly rising young lawyer, and Elliott +discovered later that he had, in fact, been trained for the bar. + +“And now, what’s this new scheme you’re working me into?” he inquired. + +“We’ll tell you about it after dinner,” said Henninger. “Did you make +any progress in that Venezuela claim?” + +It appeared that Sullivan had not even been able to get what he called +“a look in” for his money, but it did not matter much, for in any +event the claim would have been temporarily dropped. They dined that +night at the Hotel Martin, and when the waiter had gone away and left +them in their private room with coffee and liqueurs, Elliott told +Bennett’s story for the second time. Sullivan listened, smoking +continual cigarettes, but as the plot developed, the same predatory +glimmer stole into his eyes that Elliott had seen on the faces of his +other companions. + +“It’s a big thing, certainly. It may prove a good thing,” he commented +coolly, when Elliott had done. “It’s one of the sportiest things, too, +that I ever heard of, but it strikes me that the odds are all on this +mate you speak of. He knows where the wreck is, and we don’t.” + +“Exactly; and he’s going to tell us. We’re bound to intercept him +before he gets back to the island, and if we can get ourselves posted +all along the East African coast before he arrives, the thing is +almost safe. But, until then, a day’s delay may cost us the whole +pile. We had a stroke of luck in Nashville, and another in getting +berths on the first Atlantic steamer, and if the luck only holds—” + +“When do we sail?” + +“On the _New York_, at noon to-morrow, for Southampton.” + +The next morning was breathlessly full of affairs. There was money to +be changed, infinite small purchases to be made, a thousand last +arrangements, and they had just time to snatch a hasty mouthful at a +quick-lunch counter, and get down to the dock as the first whistle +blew. The great wharf-shed was crowded, swarming and bustling about +the great black wall of the steamer’s side, which appeared to be +actually in the shed. The lofty, resonant roof echoed with the voices +and with the roll of incessant express-wagons bringing late baggage. +The place was full of the harbour smell of rotting sea-water, and the +noise, the movement, the excitement, increased as the last moments +arrived and passed. + +The decks were finally cleared of the non-passengers, and a dozen men +tailed on the gangplank. A swarm of tugs were nosing about the +monster’s bows. The last whistle coughed and roared, and the gap +between the side and the wharf suddenly widened. + +Elliott leaned over the rail with delight, as she swung out into the +river, and presently began to move under her own steam. The sierra +outline of New York developed into coherence, towering and prodigious, +jetting swift breaths of smoke and steam into the dazzling sky. An +irradiation of furious vitality surrounded it. This was the city of +the treasure-finders, of the searchers of easy millions, of the +buccaneers. It was the place above all others where the strong is most +absolutely the master, and the weak most utterly the slave; where the +struggle, not so much for existence as for luxury, reaches its most +terrific phase, evolving a new and formidable human type. Elliott felt +himself of a sudden strangely in harmony with this city which he was +leaving. The spoils to the victors—and he was going to be victorious! + +The ship was full, almost to her capacity, and the four gold-seekers +were scattered about in different staterooms. Elliott’s room had two +occupants already, and the sofa was made up for him at night. The +saloon tables were crowded on the first day; then it turned cold, with +a light, choppy sea and rain that lasted till the Grand Banks were +passed, and half of the passengers became invisible. With the promise +of fair weather they began to reappear, and on the third day the decks +were lined with a double row of steamer-chairs. + +During the first days of the voyage Elliott fell into greater intimacy +with Henninger than with any of the others of the party. It did not +take the older and more experienced man to learn all he desired to +know about Elliott’s vicissitudes. Elliott told it without any +hesitation, making a humourous tale of it, and, though Henninger +offered no confidences in return, he told Elliott curious adventures, +which, if they were true, argued an extraordinary experience of +unusual and not always respectable courses of life. + +Although he never became autobiographical, Elliott gathered by +snatches that he must have been at one time, in some capacity, +connected with the British army. Later he had certainly been an +officer in the Peruvian army, but his manner of quitting either +service did not appear. It was with South and Central America that he +appeared to have had most to do. He had mentioned cargoes of munitions +of war run ashore by night for revolutionary forces, fusilades of +blindfolded men against church walls, and more peaceful quests for +concessions of various sorts, involving a good deal of the peculiarly +shady politics that distinguish Spanish America. Henninger drew no +morals; he seemed to have taken life very much as he found it, and +Elliott suspected that he had been no more scrupulous than his +antagonists. At the same time he had a definite though singularly +upside down morality of his own, which continually inspired Elliott +with astonishment, sometimes with admiration, and occasionally with +disgust. + +There was a good deal of whist played in the smoking-room of an +evening, and a little poker, but with low stakes. It was on the +preceding passage of this very ship that a noble English lord had been +robbed of four thousand pounds at the latter game, and the incident +was remembered. Elliott was no expert at poker, and his friends showed +no inclination for play, so that, though they were in the smoking-room +every evening, it was seldom that any of them touched a card. + +On the evening of the fifth day out Elliott was sitting quietly in a +corner of the smoking-room with a novel and a cigar. It was nearly +eleven o’clock, and the low, luxurious room was full of men, and +growing very smoky in spite of the open ports. Sullivan had gone to +his stateroom; Henninger and Hawke were somewhere about, but Elliott +was paying no attention to anything that went on. + +Suddenly he became aware of a lowering of the conversation at his end +of the room. He glanced up; everybody was looking curiously in one +direction. In the focus of gaze stood Henninger, engaged in what +seemed a violent, but low-toned altercation with a short, fat, but +extraordinarily dignified blond little man who had been prominent +among the whist players. One of the ship’s officers stood by, looking +annoyed and judicial. Henninger was white to the lips, and his black +eyes snapped, though he was saying little in reply to the fat man’s +energetic discourse. No one else approached the group, but every one +observed it with interest. + +All at once, upon some remark of Henninger’s, the little man hit out +with closed fist, but the officer caught his arm. Elliott glanced +round and saw Hawke looking on with considerable coolness, but, +conceiving it his duty to stand by his friend, he got up and +approached the trio. + +“Go away, Elliott. This is none of your affair!” said Henninger, +sharply. + +Elliott retreated, feeling that he had made a fool of himself publicly +and gratuitously. But he was consumed with curiosity as well as +anxiety, for it struck him that this might be in some way connected +with the wrecked gold-ship. + +Presently the three men left the cabin together and the buzz of talk +broke out again. Elliott caught Hawke’s eye, and beckoned him over. + +“What was it?” he said, in an undertone. + +“I didn’t catch the first of it,” said Hawke. “I believe that little +ass accused Henninger of being a notorious card-sharper, or something +of the sort. The second mate happened to be there, and he heard their +stories, and I expect they’ve gone to the captain now.” + +The curious quality of Elliott’s regard for Henninger is sufficiently +indicated by the fact that at this information he was filled +simultaneously with indignant rage and wonder whether the thing were +true. He put the question directly to Hawke, who shrugged his +shoulders. + +“Henninger is absolutely the best poker player I ever saw,” he +replied. “He’s better even than Sullivan, and no man can be as good a +player as that without being suspected of crookedness. Of course, I +don’t know all Henninger’s adventures, but I’d stake anything that +he’s as straight as a string. He’s too thoroughbred a sport.” + +The little blond man presently returned to the smoking-room alone, but +Henninger did not reappear. Elliott waited for fifteen or twenty +minutes, and then went on deck. + +The spaces were all deserted, and the electric lights shone on empty +chairs. It was a clear night, and the big funnels loomed against the +sky, rolling out volumes of black smoke. As he walked slowly aft, he +saw a man leaning over the quarter, looking down at the boiling wake +streaked with phosphorescence. It looked like Henninger; drawing +nearer, he saw that he was not mistaken. + +“How’d it come out, old man?” inquired Elliott, sympathetically. +“Hawke and I would have backed you up if you had only let us. It’s an +outrage—” + +“Will you shut up your infernal mouth—and get away from here!” +Henninger interrupted, in a voice of such savage and suppressed fury +that Elliott was absolutely stupefied for a moment. + +Startled and offended, he turned on his heel and walked forward nearly +to the bows, and for a moment he was almost as angry as Henninger had +been. He leaned over the rail and frowned at the creaming water. +Perhaps he had been tactless,—but he could not forgive the ferocious +rebuff that his sympathy had received. But as he stood there, the cool +and calm of the mid-sea night began to work insensibly upon his +temper, and he began to take a more lenient view of the offence. +Glancing aft, he saw that Henninger had vanished. There was no one +anywhere in sight but the officer on the bridge and a lookout on the +forecastle-head; and no sound but the labouring beat of the +propellers. + +He remained there for some time, for he heard eight bells struck, and +the changing of the watch. Presently a hand touched his shoulder +lightly. + +“Here, old chap, smoke this,” said Henninger, thrusting a large cigar +wrapped in silver foil into his hand. “I was rude to you just now, but +you came on me at a bad moment. Forgive me, won’t you?” + +“I oughtn’t to have said anything. It wasn’t any of my business, +anyway,” said Elliott, throwing away the remains of his resentment, +for when Henninger chose to be ingratiating he was able to exercise a +singular charm. + +“I’m glad that little fool didn’t hit me,” went on Henninger, slowly. +“There would have been trouble. He isn’t such a fool, either. His +memory is excellent.” + +“You don’t mean that—really—” began Elliott, and stopped. + +“Elliott, I don’t know whether you’ve been in hard luck often enough +and hard enough to get a correct light on what I’m going to tell you. +No man knows anything about life, or human nature, or himself, till +he’s been up against it,—banged up against it, knocked down and +stepped on,—and the knowledge isn’t worth having at the price. + +“This was two years ago. I had just come up from Tampico, and I’d been +two weeks in a Mexican jail because I wouldn’t pay blackmail to the +governor’s private secretary. I had just fifty-seven dollars, I +remember, when I landed in New Orleans, but I had a good thing up my +sleeve, and I went straight up to St. Louis to see some men I knew +there and interest them in it. Two of them came back with me to New +Orleans. I was to show them the workings of the thing—it doesn’t +matter now what it was—and if they liked it, they were to put up the +capital. + +“We came down the river by boat. There’s a good deal of card-playing +on those river boats yet, though nothing to what it used to be, of +course, and we all three got into a game, along with a young sport +from Memphis, who had been flashing a big roll all over the boat. Now +I can play poker a little, and our limit was low, but I hadn’t any +luck that day. I couldn’t get anything better than two pairs, and my +pile kept going down till it reached pretty near nothing. All the +money I had in the world was on that table, and my future, too, for I +had to keep my end up with those capitalists. I was a fool to go into +the game, but I couldn’t pull out. About that time I happened to feel +a long, thin, loose splinter on the under side of the table. I don’t +think that I’d have done it but for that, but I took to holding out an +ace or two, sticking them under that splinter. I was beginning to get +my money back, when—I don’t know how it happened—the fellow at my left +suspected something, leaned over and reached under the table and +pulled out the aces. + +“They don’t shoot for that sort of thing on the river any more, but it +was nearly as bad. I got off at the next landing. All the passengers +were lined up to hoot the detected card-sharper. This fellow on board +here was one of them.” + +The brief, staccato sentences seemed to burn the speaker’s lips. +Elliott could find nothing to say, and there was a strained silence. +He could not see Henninger’s face in the dusk, but presently he gently +touched his shoulder. + +Henninger started nervously. “Let’s walk about a bit,” he proposed in +a more natural voice. “It’s too pleasant to go below.” + +They made the circumference of the decks two or three times at a +vigorous pace, and without a word spoken. + +“Oh, I don’t blame them—not a bit!” said Henninger, suddenly. “It’s +all a part of the game. We fellows are against the world at large; we +don’t give much mercy and we don’t expect any. Only—well, I don’t +know, but when I go up against these people who’ve always had plenty +of money, who’ve lived all their lives in a warmed house, all their +fat, stuffy lives, afraid of everything they don’t understand, and +understanding damned little, and getting no nearer to life than a +cabbage,—when I have to listen to those people talking honour and +morality, sometimes it sends me off my head. What do they know of it? +They haven’t blood enough for anything worse than a little respectable +cheating and lying, and they thank God they’ve always had strength to +resist temptation. They don’t know what temptation is. Let ’em get out +on the ragged edge of things, and get some of the knocks that shuffle +a man’s moralities up like a pack of cards. Something that they never +tried is to come into a strange town on a rough night, stony broke, +and see the lights shining in the windows, and not know any more than +a stray dog where you’re going to fill your belly or get out of the +rain. + +“There are worse things than that, too, for when a man gets down to +rock-bottom, he doesn’t have to keep up appearances, and he can drop +his dignity temporarily and wait for better days. But when it comes to +being broke in a town where you’re known, where you’re trying to put +through some business, sleeping at ten-cent hotels and trying to make +a square meal out of a banana, and sitting round good hotels for +respectability’s sake, and cleaning your collar with a piece of +bread,—that’s about as near hell as a man gets in this world, and he +comes to feel that he wouldn’t stick at anything to get out of it.” + +“I know,” said Elliott, retrospectively. + +“Of course, that’s all part of the game, too. If we stuck to the +beaten track, there wouldn’t be any of this trouble. But, great +heavens! could I settle down at a desk in an office and hope for a +raise of ten dollars a month if I was industrious and obliging! Or if +I went home,—but I’d suffocate in about ten days. I’ve got caught in +this sporting life, and it’s too late to get out of it, and I couldn’t +live without it, anyway. But there’s nothing in it—nothing at all. +You’ve got a good profession, Elliott, and I give it to you straight, +you’ll be wise to go back and work at it, and let this chasing easy +money alone. Hawke’s another case. It makes me sorry to see him. He’s +bright; he’s got as cold a nerve as I ever saw, and he’s young enough +to amount to something yet, but he’s fooling away his life. I expect +he made some kind of a smash at home; I don’t know; he’s as dumb as a +clam about his affairs,—and so am I generally. As for Sullivan, I +don’t care; he’s a fellow that’ll never let anything carry him where +he don’t want to go. But if it was any good talking to you and Hawke, +I’d tell you to take a fool’s advice and let grafting alone.” + +Elliott was at first amazed by this outburst, and then profoundly +moved. It was the last thing to be expected from Henninger, but his +equilibrium had been completely upset by the scene in the +smoking-room, and he had not yet regained it. + +“You’re forgetting the _Clara McClay_. You don’t propose that we give +that up, do you?” Elliott remarked. + +“I had forgotten it for a moment,” admitted Henninger. “No, we won’t +give that up; and I’ll tell you plainly, Elliott, that we’re going to +have that bullion if we have to cut throats for it. If this mate gets +there first I’ll run him down alone, but I’ll have it. This thing +seems like a sort of last chance. I’ve been playing in hard luck for a +long time, and I’ve had about as much as I can stand, and this will be +cash enough to retire on, if we can get it. Elliott, don’t you +see,”—gripping his arm,—“that we’ve simply _got_ to get to that wreck +first?” + +“We’re all just as keen as you are,” said Elliott. “You won’t find us +hanging back.” + +“Yes, I know. But you’re younger, and it don’t seem to matter so much +as it does to me,” Henninger responded in a tone of some depression, +and they made several more rounds of the deck without speaking. At +last Henninger approached the companion stairs. + +“I think I’ll go down to my bunk,” he said. “It strikes me that I’ve +been talking a lot of gallery melodrama to-night, but that affair in +the smoking-room rather got on my nerves. Don’t repeat any of all this +to the other boys. I’ve given you a lot of better advice than I was +ever able to use myself. Good night.” + +He disappeared with a smile, and Elliott went back to the rail to +smoke another cigar, filled with a painful mingling of affection and +pity for this unrestful spirit. He foresaw what he himself might be +like in ten years. Thus far, his memory held nothing worse than +misfortune, nothing of dishonour; but dishonour is apt to be the +second stage of misfortune. “Go back to work, and let this chasing +easy money alone,” Henninger had said, and he was right. It was the +advice that Margaret had given him, and that he had vowed to take. But +there was still the gold-ship, and Elliott thrilled anew with the +irrepressible sense of adventure and romance. + +Next morning Henninger had regained his customary equipoise, and +Elliott could hardly believe his recollection of last night’s +conversation. Henninger gave an account of the accusation and of his +defence very briefly to his friends. The captain, acting as arbiter, +had ordered that Henninger should refrain from playing cards for +stakes while on board, under penalty of being posted as a sharper. On +the other hand, the accuser was warned not to make his story public, +as there was no corroborative evidence of its truth. + +In spite of this caution, some word of the affair spread through the +ship, and the rest of the voyage was not pleasant. Henninger found +himself an object of suspicion; passengers were shy of speaking to +him; no one was openly rude, but the atmosphere was hostile. His three +friends stood by him, incurring thereby a share of the popular +animosity, and Henninger came and went in saloon and smoking-room, to +all appearances as undisturbed and indifferent as possible. Perhaps no +one but Elliott knew how much wrath and contempt was hidden under that +iron exterior, but every one of the four was glad when the hawsers +were looped on the Southampton docks. + +It would be two days before the first Castle liner would sail for Cape +Town, and they went over to London, where the last arrangements were +completed. Elliott was to make for Bombay with all speed, and he drew +two hundred pounds above the price of his ticket for expenses. He was +to report by cable to Henninger at Zanzibar whether he discovered +anything or not. Elliott would also be notified in case of +developments at the other end, though it was very possible that it +might be necessary for the rest to take sudden action without waiting +him to rejoin them, and in such event the plunder was to be shared +alike. + +Twenty-four hours later Elliott saw his friends aboard the big steamer +at Southampton, amid a crowd of army officers, correspondents, weeping +female relatives, Jews, and speculators, who were bound for the seat +of the still smouldering war. Elliott himself returned to London, +crossed to Paris, took the Orient Express, and was hurried across +Europe and the length of Italy to Brindisi, where he caught the +mail-steamer touching there on her way to Bombay. + + + + + CHAPTER VIII. THE MAN FROM ALABAMA + + +Elliott found the atmosphere on the big Peninsular and Oriental liner +different from anything he had ever encountered before. The ship was +full of Anglo-Indian people, army officers, civil servants, and +merchants returning to the East, and whose conversation was composed +of English slang and exotic phrases of a foreign tongue. The crew were +mostly Lascars of intolerable filthiness, and there were innumerable +Indian maids—ayahs, Elliott supposed them to be—whom he met +continually about the ship on mysterious errands of comfort to their +mistresses. There were queer dishes at dinner, where Elliott made +himself disagreeably conspicuous on the first evening by wearing a +sack coat; and the talk ran upon subjects which he had previously +encountered only in the works of Mr. Kipling. + +Most of these passengers had come on board at Southampton and had +settled so comfortably together that Elliott felt himself an intruder. +He was distinctly an “outsider;” and he found it hard to scrape +acquaintance with these healthy, well-set-up and apparently +simple-minded young Englishmen, who seemed too candid to be natural. +It was even more impossible to know how to approach the peppery +veterans, who nevertheless were seen to converse jovially enough with +folk of their own sort. He was distinctly lonely; he was almost +homesick. His mind was perplexed with the object of his voyage, of +which he felt the responsibility to a painful degree, so there were +few things in his life which he ever enjoyed less than the passage +from Brindisi to Alexandria. + +At Port Said another half-dozen passengers came on board. Elliott took +them all to be English, apparently of the tourist class, travelling +around the world on circular tickets. One of them was sent to share +Elliott’s stateroom, much to his annoyance, but the man proved to be +entirely inoffensive, a dull, respectable green-grocer with the strict +principles of his London suburb, who was taking his daughter on a long +southern sea voyage by medical advice. His sole desire was to return +to his early radishes, and he spent almost all his waking hours in +sitting dumbly beside his daughter on the after deck, a slight, pale +girl of twenty, whose incessant cough sounded as if sea air had been +prescribed too late. + +It was very hot as the steamer pushed at a snail’s pace through the +canal. The illimitable reaches of honey-coloured sand seemed to gather +up the fierce sun-rays and focus them on the ship. The awnings from +stem to stern afforded little relief, and the frilled punkahs sweeping +the saloon tables only stirred the heated air. At night the ship threw +a portentous glare ahead from the gigantic search-light furnished by +the Canal Company, and in the close staterooms it was impossible to +sleep. Many of the men walked the deck or dozed in long chairs, and at +daybreak there was an undress parade when the imperturbable Lascars +turned the hose on a couple of dozen passengers lined against the +rail. Then there was a little coolness and it was possible to think of +breakfast, before the African sun became again a flaming menace. + +It was scarcely better when they reached the Red Sea, where, however, +they were able to move at better speed. They had nearly completed this +Biblical transit, when a mirage of white-capped mountains floating +aerially upside down appeared over the red desert in the south, and +all the passengers crowded to the starboard rail to look at it. +Elliott had moved to the bow, and was staring idly at the strangely +coloured low coast, red and pink and orange, spotted with crags of +basalt as black as iron. + +“It would remind a man of Arizona, wouldn’t it?” a voice drawled +languidly at his elbow. + +Elliott wheeled, a little startled. Leaning on the rail beside him was +a young man whom he remembered as having come aboard at Port Said with +the globe-trotters. He was attired in white flannels and wore a peaked +cap, but the voice was unmistakably American, and Elliott felt certain +that it had been developed south of the Ohio River. + +“I never was in Arizona, but I’ve seen the same kind of thing in New +Mexico,” he answered. “How did you know that I had been in the +Southwest?” + +“There’s nothing but the Bad Lands that’ll give a man that far-away +pucker about the eyes,” said the other. “And anybody could pick you +out for an American among all these Britishers. We’re the only Yankees +on board, I reckon. I don’t mind calling myself a Yankee here, but I +wouldn’t at home. I’m from Alabama, sir.” + +“I thought you were from the South. I’m a Marylander myself,” replied +Elliott. + +“Is that so? I’m mighty glad to hear it. We’ll have to moisten +that—two Southerners so far from home. My name is Sevier.” + +Elliott gave his name in return, and permitted himself to be led aft. +He looked more closely at his new acquaintance as they sat down at a +table in the stuffy cubby-hole that passes for a smoking-room on the +Indian mail-steamers. Sevier was a boyish-looking fellow of perhaps +thirty, short, slight, and dark, with a small dark moustache, and a +manner that was inexpressibly candid and ingratiating. In time it +might come to seem smooth to the point of nausea; at present it +appeared offhand enough, and yet courteous—a manner of which the South +alone has preserved the secret—and Elliott in his growing loneliness +was delighted to find so agreeable a fellow traveller. + +The talk naturally fell upon Southern matters, drifted to the West and +South again to Mexico and the Gulf. Sevier seemed to display an +unusual knowledge of these localities, though Elliott was unable to +check his statements, and he explained that he had been a newspaper +correspondent in Central America for a New Orleans daily, the _Globe_. + +“The _Globe_?” exclaimed Elliott, recollecting almost forgotten names. +“Then you must know Jackson, the night editor. I used to work with him +in Denver.” + +“I’ve met him. But, you see, I was hardly ever in the office, nor in +the city, either. I always worked on the outside.” + +“The _Globe_ had a man in San Salvador last year, named Wilcox, I +think,” Elliott continued, recalling another fact. + +“Yes. I reckon he was before me. San Salvador—I sunk a heap of money +there!” + +“Mining?” + +“Yes—or not exactly actually mining. I got a concession for a sulphur +mine, and I was going to sell it in New York. It was a mighty good +mine, too. There would have been dollars in it, and it cost me five +thousand to get it. You know how concessions are got down there, I +expect?” + +“How did it pan out?” + +“It never panned out at all, sir. There was a revolution next month, +and the new government annulled everything the old one had done. I +hadn’t the money to go through the business over again, but I did make +something out of the revolution, after all.” + +“How?” + +“Selling rifles to the revolutionists. I didn’t think at the time that +I was helping to beat my own game. There’s money in revolutionizing, +too. Down there a man can’t keep clear of graft, you know; it’s in the +air.” + +In spite of the apologetic tone of the last sentence, Elliott +recognized the mental attitude of the adventurer, which was becoming +very familiar to him. He had heard a good deal from Henninger of the +business of supplying a revolution with war material, in which +Henninger had participated more than once. As often as not, it is done +by buying up the officers of a ragged government regiment, and +transferring, sometimes not only the rifles and cartridges but also +the officers and men as well, to the equally ragged force in +opposition. + +But if Sevier were an adventurer he was certainly the smoothest +specimen of the fraternity that Elliott had yet encountered. And why +should such a man be going to India, surely a most unpromising field +for the industrious chevalier. As if in answer to the mental inquiry, +Sevier announced that he was going to obtain material for a series of +magazine articles upon the East, as well as for a number of newspaper +letters which he proposed to “syndicate” to half a dozen dailies as +special correspondence. + +“And I’ll have to spend the next six months mixing up with this sort +of fellows,” he lamented, waving his hand toward a group of +Anglo-Indians with seasoned complexions who were deep in “bridge” at a +neighbouring table. “I’m too American, or too Southern, or something, +to know how to get on with those chaps. I reckon it’s the fault of my +education. I can’t drink their drinks, and I never learned to play +whist right, and I’ve told them my best stories, and they took about +as well as the Declaration of Independence. I expect I’ll be right +glad when I get back where I can see a game of baseball and play +poker. Do you play poker at all?” + +“Not on shipboard. I find it’s liable to make me seasick,” replied +Elliott, a trifle grimly. + +The last apparently careless question had, he thought, given him the +clue to the secret of his companion’s presence on board, though +professional gamblers seldom operate upon the Eastern steamship lines. + +“I’ll give you a bit of advice, too,” he added. “Don’t start any +little game on board, unless it’s a very little one, indeed. These +boats aren’t as sporty as the Atlantic liners.” + +Sevier stared a moment, and then burst out laughing. + +“Oh, I’m no card crook,” he said, without showing any offence. “I +didn’t want to skin you. I’m the worst poker player you ever saw, but +I felt somehow like opening jackpots. I’ll play penny-ante with you +all the evenin’, and donate the proceeds to a Seaman’s Home, if you +like.” + +Elliott declined this invitation to charity, but he sat chatting for a +long time with the young Alabaman. His suspicions were by no means +lulled, but, after all, as he reflected, he would be neither Sevier’s +victim nor his confederate, and, though he did not know it, he was +acquiring something of the adventurer’s lax notions of morality. + +But it was pleasant to talk again on American matters, and to hear the +familiar Southern opinions, couched in the familiar Southern drawl. It +would, besides, have been difficult to find anywhere a more pleasant +fellow traveller than Sevier. He possessed a fund of reminiscence and +anecdote of an experience that seemed, in spite of his youth, to have +been almost universal, and of a world in which he appeared to have +played many parts. Newspaper work was his latest part, and he spoke +little of it. Indeed, he was anything but autobiographical, and his +tales were almost wholly of the adventures of other men, whose +irregularities he viewed with the purely objective and unmoral +interest of the man of the world who is at once a cynic and an +optimist. Above all, he seemed to have an eye for opportunities of +easy money which was more like a down-easter than a man from the Gulf +Coast, though he confessed frankly that he was just then in hard luck. + +“I’ve made fortunes,” he said. “If I had half the money that I’ve +blown in like a fool, I wouldn’t be a penny-a-liner now.” + +This remark forcibly appealed to Elliott; he had said the same thing +many times to himself. + +It became a trifle cooler after the steamer passed the dessicated +headland of Aden and put out upon the broad Indian Ocean. The weather +remained fine, and there was every prospect of a quick passage to +Bombay. With the lowering of the temperature, the irrepressible +British instinct for games reappeared, and there were deck quoits, +deck cricket, blindfold races, and a violent sort of tournament in +which the combatants aimed to knock one another with pillows from a +spar which they sat astride. Under the humanizing influence of these +diversions Elliott found his fellow passengers less unapproachable +than they had seemed, but he still spent many hours with Sevier, for +whom he had conceived a genuine liking. The two Americans were further +bound together by a common conviction of the absurdity of violent +exertion with the thermometer in the eighties. + +On the third day after leaving the Red Sea, Elliott happened to pass +down the main stairway as the third officer was putting up the daily +chart of the ship’s progress. He paused to look at it. The steamer was +then, it occurred to him, close to the point where the Italian ship +had picked up the mate of the _Clara McClay_. + +He took from his pocket a map which he had made, and consulted it. +This map showed the hypothetical course of the wrecked gold-ship in a +red line, with dotted lines indicating the probable course of the +driftings of both the mate’s boat and Bennett’s raft. As nearly as he +could judge, the liner must indeed be at that moment almost upon the +spot where the secret of the position of the wrecked treasure was +saved, in the person of the Irishman. + +He was still looking at the map when Sevier came quietly down the +stairs, paused on the step above him, and glanced over his shoulder. +Elliott dropped the map to his side, and then, ashamed of this +childish attempt at concealment, raised it again boldly. + +“Layin’ off a chart of your voyages?” inquired Sevier. “Ever been down +there?” putting his finger on the Mozambique Channel. + +“No, I never was,” answered Elliott, somewhat startled at the +question. + +“Neither was I. I’ve been told that there’s no more dangerous water in +the world. They say the currents run like a mill-race through that +channel, in different directions, according to the tides. The coast’s +covered with wreckage. I thought you might have sailed along that red +line you’ve marked.” + +“No, I don’t know anything about the place,” Elliott denied again, +putting the map in his pocket. + +“Thinking of going there?” + +“Not at present.” + +“I wish I could find out something definite about the islands in that +channel. Nobody knows anything about them at all except the Arab coast +pirates, and they keep all the pickings there are to themselves.” + +“You’ll find better pickings in India, you vulture,” cried Elliott, +with an easy laugh. + +He was far from feeling easy, however, and for a time he was sharply +suspicious of the Alabaman. Yet it was highly improbable that any one +else knew the secret of the _Clara McClay’s_ cargo and of her end; and +it was practically impossible that any one knew more of the wreck than +he did himself. Certainly Sevier could have no more definite +information, or he would be sailing to the Madagascar coast instead of +to India. Elliott persuaded himself that the young Alabaman’s +questions had been prompted by mere curiosity, and that their +startling appositeness was the result of coincidence. Still, the +incident revived his sense of the need for haste, and renewed his +eagerness to discover the traces of Burke, the brutal mate, the one +man living who knew the whole secret of the drowned millions. + +Rapidly as the good ship rolled off the knots, her slowness irritated +him. He counted the hours, almost the minutes, and it was hard to +contain his impatience till they came at last in sight of the low, +green-brown Indian shore. + +Bombay came in sight on the port bow that evening, a strange sky-line +of domes and squares. Heat lightning flickered low on the landward +horizon, casting the city into sharp silhouette against the sky, and +from some festival ashore the clash and boom of cymbals and the +terrific blare of conches rolled softened across the water. + +For hours after the steamer had anchored, the English civil and +military servants stayed on deck to look at the field of their coming +labours, and all night long the ship resounded with the clacking roar +of the derricks clearing the baggage hold. + +“Poor devils!” murmured Sevier, looking at the English clustered along +the rail. “I wonder how many of the passengers on this boat will ever +see England again—or America, either.” + +And Elliott, thinking of his perilous mission, wondered also. + + + + + CHAPTER IX. ON THE TRAIL + + +Elliott had expected to find an Oriental city; he had looked for a +sort of maze of black alleys, ivory lattices, temples, minarets, and a +medley of splendour and squalor; but in his surprise at the reality he +said that Bombay was almost like an American city. There was squalor +and splendour enough, but they were not as he had imagined them; and +at the first sight of the wide, straight, busy streets he felt a great +relief, realizing that his detective work would not have to be pursued +under such “Arabian Night” conditions as he had anticipated. + +At the landing-stage he surrendered himself to a white-robed and +barefoot native runner, who claimed to represent Ward’s Anglo-Indian +Hotel, and this functionary at once bundled him into a ricksha which +started off at a trot. So unfamiliar a mode of locomotion revived some +of Elliott’s primal expectations of the East, and the crowds that +filled the street from house-front to house-front helped to strengthen +them. The populace, as Elliott observed with surprise, were nearly as +black as the negroes at home, clad in every variety and colour of +costume, brilliant as a garden of tulips, and through the dense mass +his ricksha man forced a passage by screaming unintelligible abuse at +the top of his voice. Occasionally a black victoria clove its slow way +past him, bearing a white-clad Englishman, who gazed unseeingly over +the swarming mass; and Elliott for the first time breathed the smell +of the East, that compound of heat and dust and rancid butter and +perspiring humanity that somehow strangely suggests the yellow +marigold flowers that hang in limp clusters in the marketplaces of all +Bengal. + +At the hotel, a gigantic and imposing structure, he was received by a +Eurasian in a frock coat and no shoes, who assigned him to a vast +bedroom, cool and darkened and almost large enough to play tennis in. +Elliott examined the unfamiliar appurtenances with some curiosity, and +then took a delicious dip in the bathroom that opened from his +chamber. He then changed his clothes and went down-stairs, determined +to lose no time in visiting the United States Consulate. + +The mate of the _Clara McClay_, as the only surviving officer, was +required to report the circumstances of the loss of his ship to the +American consul; and self-interest, as much as law, should equally +have impelled him to do so. For by reporting the foundering of the +steamer in deep water he would clear himself of responsibility, and at +the same time close the case and check any possible investigation into +the whereabouts of the wreck. + +But Elliott learned at once that the white man in India is not +supposed to exert himself. The manager of the house, to whom he +applied for information, placed him in a long cane chair while a +ricksha was being called, and then installed him in the baby-carriage +conveyance, giving elaborate instructions in the vernacular to the +native motor. And again the vivid panorama of the streets unrolled +before Elliott’s eyes under the blinding sun-blaze,—the closely packed +crowd of white head-dresses, the nude torsos, bronze and black, the +gorgeous silks, and violent-hued cottons rolling slowly over the +earthen pavement that was packed hard by millions of bare feet. + +The gridiron shield with the eagle looked home-like to Elliott when he +set eyes on it, but he found the official representative of the United +States to be a brass-coloured Eurasian, who seemed to have some +recollection of the _Clara McClay_ or her mate, but was either unable +or unwilling to impart any information. He was the consular secretary; +the consul was out at the moment, but he returned just as Elliot was +turning away in disappointment. He was a rubicund gentleman of middle +age, from Ohio, as Elliott presently learned, and proud of the fact. +He wore a broad straw hat of American design—Heaven knows how he had +procured it in that land—and, to Elliott’s unbounded amazement, he was +accompanied by his own steamer acquaintance, the Alabaman Sevier. + +Elliott nodded to Sevier, trying to conceal his consternation, and was +for going away immediately, but the secretary was, after all, only too +anxious to give assistance. + +“Be pleased to wait a moment, sir. This is the consul. Mr. Guiger, +this gentleman is asking if we know anything of the position of the +mate of the wrecked American steamer, called the _Clara McClay_.” + +“His position? By Jupiter, I wish I knew it!” ejaculated the consul, +mopping his face, but showing a more than physical warmth. “This other +gentleman here has just been asking me the same thing, and I’ve had a +dozen wires from the owners in Philadelphia.” + +Elliott was thunderstruck at this revelation of Sevier’s interest in +the matter, but it was too late to draw back. + +“I was asked to make inquiries by relatives of one of the crew,” he +said, mendaciously. “Has the mate showed up here at all?” + +“Showed up? Of course he did. He had to, by Jupiter! But it was his +business to keep in touch with me till the case was gone into and +settled. He gave me an address on Malabar Hill,—too swell a locality +for a sailorman, thinks I,—and, sure enough, when I sent there for +him, they had never heard of him. I’ve not set eyes on him since. +He’ll lose his ticket, that’s all.” + +“What sort of a report did he make?” + +“Why, nothing. Said the ship was rotten, and her cargo shifted in a +gale and some of her rivets must have drawn, and she foundered. Every +one went down but himself,—all drunk, I suppose. But he didn’t even +make a sworn statement. Said he’d come back next day, and I was in a +hurry myself, and I let him go, like a fool.” + +“You don’t know whether he’s still in the city?” + +“I don’t know anything. I’ve set the police to look for him, but these +black-and-tan cops don’t amount to anything. He may be half-way to +Australia by this time. Like as not he is.” + +“Where did he say his ship foundered?” asked Sevier, speaking for the +first time. + +“Somewhere in the Mozambique Channel, in deep water. He didn’t know +exactly. Along about latitude twelve, south, he said. Went down like a +lump of lead.” + +Elliott thought of her weighty cargo, and, glancing up, he met +Sevier’s eye fixed keenly on him. + +“Well, if the man can’t be found, I suppose that’s the end of it,” he +said, carelessly, and turned away again. + +“Sorry I can’t help you, gentlemen,” responded the consul. “If I get +any news, I’ll let you know. You don’t happen to have brought out any +American newspapers, do you—Chicago ones, for choice?” + +Elliott was devoid of these luxuries, and Sevier followed him out to +the street, where the ricksha was still waiting. + +“Is that your perambulator?” inquired the Alabaman. “Let’s walk a +little. The streets aren’t so crowded here.” + +“It’s undignified for a white man to walk in this country, but I’ll +make my ricksha man follow me,” said Elliott. “Besides, I couldn’t +find my way back to the hotel without him.” + +They walked for several minutes in silence down the side of the street +that was shaded by tall buildings of European architecture. + +“Were you ever at a New Orleans Mardi Gras? Hanged if this town +doesn’t remind me of it!” Sevier suddenly broke silence. “By the way, +I didn’t know that you were interested in the _Clara McClay_.” + +“I’m not,” said Elliott, on the defensive. “I was simply making +inquiries on behalf of other people, to get some details about her +loss. You seem to have more interest than that in her yourself.” + +“Oh, my interest is a purely business one,” replied Sevier, lightly. +“I know her owners pretty well, and they wired me from Philadelphia to +find out something about her. I found the cablegram waiting for me +when I got here. Funny thing that the mate should disappear that way. +Something crooked, eh?” + +“Possibly. Queer things happen on the high seas. It looks as if he +were afraid of something.” + +“Or after something. I’ve heard of ships being run ashore for +insurance.” + +“But the _Clara McClay_ didn’t run ashore,” Elliott reminded him. “She +foundered in deep water, you know.” + +“Oh, yes, she foundered in deep water,” drawled Sevier. “Have you got +the spot marked on your map?” + +This attack was so sudden and so unexpected that Elliott floundered. + +“That map you have in your pocket, with her course marked in red,” +Sevier pursued, relentlessly. + +“That map you saw on the steamer? That wasn’t a chart of the _Clara +McClay’s_ course. Or, at least,” Elliott went on, recovering his wind, +“I don’t suppose it is, accurately. I drew it to see if I could make +out where she must have sunk, by a sort of dead reckoning. You see, I +felt a certain interest in her on account of the inquiries I was +commissioned to make. Nobody knows exactly what her course was.” + +“Nobody but the mate, and he’s skipped the country. Well, I hope you +find him, for the sake of the bereaved kinfolk.” + +He turned a humourous and incredulous glance at Elliott, and its +invitation to frankness was unmistakable. Had Elliott been alone in +the affair he might have responded, and taken his companion as a +partner. But he had not the right to do that; there were men enough to +share the plunder already; but he was possessed with curiosity to +learn what Sevier knew, and, above all, what he wanted. Sevier had +learned nothing from Bennett; he could have learned nothing from the +mate, else he would not be in pursuit of him. How then could he know +what cargo the _Clara McClay_ had carried? + +They walked a little further, talking of the features of interest like +a pair of Cook’s tourists, while the ricksha man marched stolidly +behind. + +“Queer that Burke didn’t know where she went down!” said Sevier, as if +to himself. + +“Who’s Burke?” asked Elliott, on the alert this time. + +“The mate of the _Clara McClay_. Didn’t you know his name? I got it +from the owners. They’re wild about him; swear they’ll have his +certificate taken from him. It seems he hasn’t reported a word to +them, and all they know is a newspaper item saying that he was picked +up from the wreck.” + +“Was all that in your cablegram?” demanded Elliott, with malice. + +“They told me that in Philadelphia, before I left,” Sevier replied, +imperturbably. + +This was just possible, but, after a rapid mental calculation of +dates, Elliott decided that it was unlikely. Besides, why should the +owners have cabled, if they had seen their messenger just before he +sailed? But he had already arrived at the conviction that Sevier’s +explanation of his interest in the treasure-ship was as fictitious as +his own. + +“Isn’t it likely,” he said, easily, “that the mate was drunk and +navigated her out of her course, and ran her ashore? He knows that +he’s responsible for her loss, and he’s afraid to face a court of +inquiry.” + +“He’ll sure lose his certificate anyway, if he doesn’t show up. +Besides, he didn’t run her ashore. She went down in deep water.” + +“Sure enough, she went down in deep water,” Elliott acquiesced. A +strong sense of the futility of this fencing stole over him, and he +turned abruptly and beckoned to his ricksha. + +“It’s too hot to walk. I’m going back to my hotel—the Anglo-Indian. +Come around and look me up. Are you going to search for your lost +mate?” + +“Oh, dear, no! I’m not paid for doing that. Besides, I’m going up the +country in a day or so to get stuff for my articles.” + +He watched Elliott into his ricksha, and walked off, Elliott wondered +vainly where. + +He wondered also whether he ought not to keep close to this +smooth-spoken pseudo-journalist, who, he felt sure, was also on the +track of the treasure-ship. But this would hamper him fatally in his +quest for the elusive mate Burke, and this quest was to be Elliott’s +next affair. + +But he had next to no idea just where or how he would look. He was an +inlander; he knew little of the ways of seafaring men ashore, and +nothing at all of this particular city. He plunged boldly into the +search, however, and, as a preliminary, he spent a day in roaming +about the waterfront of Mazagon Bay, entering into conversation with +such white seamen as he came across. But he was acutely conscious that +he made a bungle of this. These men were too far outside his +experience for him to enter into easy relations with them. His +immaculate white flannels were also against him; he received either +too much deference or too little, and he suspected that he was taken +for a detective or a customs officer. He decided that he would have to +assume a less respectable appearance. + +But every one he met professed total ignorance of the _Clara McClay_ +and her mate. Most of the men were transient; they had been in Bombay +for only a few days or weeks, and the arrival of a single man, even +the survivor of a wreck, is too slight an episode to leave any mark +upon such a port as Bombay, where the shipping of a whole world is +gathered. But a vessel is a different thing, and Elliott learned—it +was the whole result of his day’s work—that the Italian steamer +_Andrea Sforzia_, which had picked up Burke’s boat, had sailed a month +ago for Cape Town. + +Had Burke gone with her? No one knew. Elliott thought it most +probable; and in that case the rich grave of the gold-ship must be +rifled already. A feeling of sick failure spread through Elliott’s +system as he realized that the whole quest might have been in vain, +even before they left America. But he cabled to Henninger at Zanzibar: + +“Steamer _Andrea Sforzia_ sailed Cape Town about April 10th, likely +with Burke.” + +Still it might be that the mate had not sailed with the Italian +steamer, after all, and, while awaiting a reply from Zanzibar, Elliott +resumed his detective work. It was good to pass the anxious time, if +it led to no other result. He hired a room in a cheap sailors’ hotel +in Mazagon, where he went every morning to change his white clothes +for a dirty, bluish dungaree slop-suit, which he bought at a low +clothing store, and, thus suitably attired, he was able to pursue his +explorations among the tortuous ways of the old Portuguese settlement +and attract no attention so long as he kept his mouth shut. These +wanderings he often carried far into the night, returning finally to +his dirty room to resume the garb of respectability. + +He saw many strange things in these explorations among the groggeries, +dives, and sailors’ boarding-houses, where the seamen of every +maritime race on earth herded together in their stifling quarter. He +sat in earthen-floored drinking-shops, where Lascars, Norse, Yankees, +Englishmen, and Italians gulped down poisonous native liquors like +water, and quarrelled in a babel of tongues; he leaned over fan-tan +tables in huge, filthy rooms that had been the palaces of merchant +princes; and nightly he saw the tired dancing-girls from the Hills +posture obscenely before an audience of white, yellow, and brown sea +scum, ferociously drunk or stupid with opium. More than once he saw +knives drawn and used, and the blood spurt dark in the candle-light; +and once he had to run for it to avoid being gathered in by the police +along with his companions. But nowhere could he hear anything of what +he sought, and he could find no one who would admit having seen the +mate of the _Clara McClay_. + +He had received no reply from Henninger, and this, perhaps, +illogically reassured him. After a week he had ceased to expect any, +but by this time he had well ceased to believe that Burke was still in +Bombay. If he were there, Elliott did not believe that he could be +found, and he regretted anew that he had not obtained a detailed +description of the man from Bennett. He visited the American consul +again, but that official had no further news, and was able to describe +the mate only as “a big fellow, with a big beard turning gray,” which +was indefinite enough. + +After all, Elliott reflected, the man would be likely to change his +name and to keep apart from other seamen. Surely, if he had been going +to fit out a wrecking expedition, he would have done it long since, +but such an enterprise would certainly have left memories upon the +waterfront. Elliott could not learn that anything of the sort had been +done. Possibly Burke had gone elsewhere to launch his expedition; very +likely he had no money, and had gone elsewhere to obtain it. + +Elliott grew very weary with turning over all these possibilities, and +almost disheartened, but he persisted in his perambulations about the +sailors’ quarter. He was beginning to feel the deadly lassitude which +stealthily grows upon the unacclimated white man in the tropics, and +he would probably have given up the quest in another week, but for a +lucky chance. + +The crush of the crowd had elbowed him into a corner beside a tiny +second-hand clothes-stall near the landing-place of the coasting +steamers, and he gazed idly at the foul-looking seamen’s +clothing—caps, oilskins, sea boots, cotton trousers—that almost filled +the recess in the wall that served for a shop. In the centre lounged +the shopman, apparently half Eurasian and half English Jew, who looked +as if he clothed himself from his own stock in trade. + +As Elliott was trying to disengage himself from the crowd, he knocked +down a suit of oilskins, and stooped to pick it up. It was an +excellent suit, though considerably worn, and as he rescued the heavy +sou’wester hat, his eye was caught by rude black lettering on the +under side of the peak. It had been done in India ink, and read “J. +Burke, S. S. _Clara McClay_.” + +Elliott stared at the initials, dazzled by his good luck. They must be +the oilskins of the missing mate, who had sold them there. Who else +could have brought clothing from the wreck to Bombay? The shopman, +scenting trade, had crept forward, and was sidling and fawning at +Elliott’s shoulder. + +“Want nice oilskins, Sahib? Ver’ scheap. You shall haf dem for ten +rupee.” + +“I’ll give you five,” said Elliott, carelessly, hanging up the cap. + +“Fif rupee? Blood of Buddha! I pay eight, s’help me Gawd!” + +“Look here,” said Elliott. “I don’t want the oilskins, but I think +they used to belong to a friend of mine, and I’ll give you eight +rupees if you’ll tell me where you got them.” + +The merchant wrinkled his brows, undoubtedly pondering whether he was +in danger of compromising any thief of his acquaintance. + +“I remember,” he presently announced. “You gif me ten rupee?” + +“Ten it is.” + +“I buy dem more than two weeks ago from your friend’s kitmatgar, +Hurris Chunder.” + +Elliott’s heart sank again. “My friend’s a sailorman, and wouldn’t +have a servant.” + +“Hurris Chunder say his master gif dem to him,” insisted the Jew. + +“Can you find Hurris Chunder?” + +“Maybe,” with an avid grin. + +“Here’s your ten rupees,” said Elliott. “I’ll give you ten more if +you’ll manage to have Hurris Chunder here to-night, and he shall have +another ten for telling me what he knows. Does it go?” + +“Yes,” responded the trader, with lightning comprehension of Western +slang. “The Sahib will find Hurris Chunder here to-night. At ten +o’clock.” + +Elliott had already learned the indefinite notions of the East +regarding time, and he did not care to show the impatience he felt, so +he did not arrive at his appointment till nearly eleven o’clock. The +yellow Jew led him to the rear of the tiny shop and introduced him +through an unsuspected door into a small chamber littered with rags, +old clothes, rubbish of copper and brass, and dirty-looking apparatus. +It was here that the merchant ate and slept, and in the middle of the +floor a white-clad figure was squatting, smoking a brass pipe. + +“This is Hurris Chunder, Sahib,” said the Jew, eagerly. + +The native, a golden-complexioned young man, with a somewhat sleepy +Buddha-like face, put down his pipe, and bowed without getting up. + +“Very good,” said Elliott. “Here’s your ten rupees, Israel. Now, get +out. I want to have a little private talk with our friend.” + +The half-caste scuttled into the outer shop and closed the door. + +“Now, then, Hurris, tell me the truth. Where did you steal those +oilskins?” + +Hurris Chunder made a deprecating gesture. “May the Presence pardon +me,” he said, in soft and excellent English. “I did not steal them. My +master, Baker Sahib, gave them to me.” + +“Baker Sahib, indeed!” Elliott murmured. “Where is your master? What +did he look like?” + +“He was a tall, lean, strong sahib, and when he first came he had a +great gray beard. He lived for many days at the Planters’ Hotel, and I +was unworthily his kitmatgar.” + +This was another surprise, for the Planters’ was an excellent, quiet, +and rather high-priced hotel, and the mate was presumably short of +funds. + +“He had money, then?” + +“He had much money, English money. He was a very generous Sahib.” + +“Well, you’ll find me a generous Sahib, too, if you act on the level. +Here’s your ten rupees. Baker Sahib is at the Planters’, then?” + +“No, Sahib, he went away. He gave me the oilskins when he went. He +sailed on a ship, a great black steamer. He went to England.” + +“To England? Are you sure it wasn’t Africa?” + +“Yes, Sahib, to Africa.” + +“What port was she bound for?” + +“Sahib, before God, I do not know. I think London.” + +“London? You said Africa. Wasn’t it America?” + +“The Sahib is right.” + +“Or Australia?” + +“If the Sahib pleases, it is so,” was the submissive response. + +“You old fraud!” said Elliott. “You don’t know where he went. Are you +sure he went away at all?” + +“Yes, Sahib. He cut off his great beard, and I took his luggage to the +ship for him,—a great black steamer, full of English. I do not know +the name of the ship.” + +“Cut off his beard, eh? And you don’t know what ship it was, or where +she went? Well, never mind, I can find that out myself. Your knowledge +is distinctly limited, Hurris, but you’re a good boy, and I believe +you’ve given me the key to the situation. It’s worth another rupee or +two. Good-bye.” + +He tossed the native three more rupees, and went to change his +clothes, bursting with excited impatience. To-morrow he would know the +mate’s destination. + +As early as possible the next morning, he sought the Planters’ Hotel, +and found that Baker Sahib had indeed been there since the 18th of +March. This was the day after the arrival of the _Andrea Sforzia_ at +Bombay, and the coincidence of the dates was corroborative evidence. +He had left on the 27th of March, and his destination was unknown at +the hotel. + +An examination of the shipping-lists, however, showed that on March +27th three passenger steamers had sailed from Bombay,—the _Punjaub_, +for London; the _Imperadora_, for Southampton, and the _Prince of +Burmah_ for Hongkong. Elliott hastened to the city passenger offices +of these lines, and begged permission to inspect the passenger-lists +of their ships sailing on that day. The sheets of the _Punjaub_ and of +the _Imperadora_ proved devoid of interest, but half-way down the list +of the _Prince of Burmah’s_ saloon passengers he came upon the name of +Henry Baker. He was booked through to Hongkong. + +The amazing improbability of this almost staggered Elliott. If the +mate knew the secret of the treasure, why should he fly thus to the +very antipodes; and if he knew no guilty secrets, why should he have +secreted himself in Bombay, and cut off his beard for purposes of +disguise? + +Were Baker and Burke identical, after all? But the American consul’s +brief description of the man tallied with that of Hurris Chunder, and +Baker had arrived at the Planters’ Hotel the day after Burke had +arrived in Bombay. Baker had brought with him oilskins from the +wrecked ship, from which he alone had been picked up at that time. + +It must be the mate, Elliott thought. In any case, Baker must know +things of importance to the gold hunters, and Elliott cabled again to +Zanzibar: + +“Mate sailed Hongkong. Am following.” + +Three days later he sailed for Hongkong himself. Up to the very moment +of clearing port he was tormented with apprehensions that Sevier would +appear on board. But, whatever were the researches of the Alabaman, +they were evidently being conducted in a different quarter, and the +weight gradually lifted from Elliott’s mind as the steamer ploughed +slowly down the bay, past the white moored monitors and the little +rocky islets of the peninsula. The treasure hunt had turned out a man +hunt, but he hoped that he was upon the last stage of the long stern +chase. + + + + + CHAPTER X. A LOST CLUE + + +Victoria City on Hongkong Island was almost invisible in hot mist and +rain as the steamer crawled up the roads and anchored off the +sea-wall. The gray harbour water appeared to steam, slopping +sluggishly against her iron sides, and the rain steamed as it fell, so +that the heavy air was a sort of stew of wet and heat and strange +smells of the sea and land. The Lascar and coolie deck-hands were +hurrying out the side-ladder, the water streaming from their faces and +their coarse black hair; but, above the rattle and bustle of +disembarkation, Elliott was aware of the movement of a mighty life +clustered invisibly around him. The hum and roar of an immense city +pierced the fog to landward; on the other side he was conscious of the +presence of innumerable shipping. The noises came hollowly through the +hot air, echoed from the sides of giant vessels; he caught hazy +glimpses of towering forests of yards, and of wet, black funnels. The +air was acrid with the smoke of coal, and the water splashed +incessantly upon the sea-wall from the swift passage of throbbing +steam launches. Away in the mist there was a rapid fusilade of +fire-crackers, and somewhere, apparently from the clouds above the +city, a gun was fired, reverberating through the mist. A ship’s bell +was struck near by, and, before the strokes had ceased, it was taken +up by another vessel, and another, and the sound spread through the +haze, near and far, tinkling in every key: + +“Ting, ting; ting, ting; ting!” It was half-past five o’clock in the +afternoon. + +The rain slackened, and a fresh breeze split the mist. To landward +Elliott beheld a wet, white city climbing irregularly up the sides of +a long serrated mountain. The waterfront along the sea-wall swarmed +with traffic, with rickshaws, sedan-chairs, carts, trucks, gay +umbrellas, coolies, Lascars, Chinese, Indians, Japanese. The port was +crowded with shipping, from war-steamers to high-sterned junks, as +motley as the throng ashore, and it was shot through incessantly with +darting tugs and launches, so that in its activity it reminded him +more of New York bay than of any other roadstead he had ever seen. + +During the voyage from Bombay he had perforce picked up a smattering +of that queer “pidgin-English” so apparently loose and so really +organized a language, and when he stepped upon the Praya he beckoned +authoritatively to a passing palanquin. + +“Boy! You savvy number one good hotel?” + +“Yes, master. Gleat Eastel’ Hotel b’long number one good.” + +“Great Eastern Hotel, then—chop-chop,” Elliott acquiesced, getting +into the chair, and the coolies set off as he had directed, chop-chop, +that is, with speed. They scurried across the Praya, up a narrow cross +street, and came out upon Queen’s Road. They passed the Club and the +post-office and finally set him down at the hotel, which, in spite of +its great size and elaborate cooling devices, he found intolerably hot +and damp. It rained all that evening, till his clothing hung limply +upon him even in the billiard-room of the hotel, and when he went to +his chamber he found the sheets apparently sodden, and damp stood +shining on the walls. Even in the steamy passage through the Malay +Archipelago Elliott had spent no such uncomfortable night as that +first one in Victoria at the commencement of the rainy season. + +A torrential rain was pouring down when he awoke, after having spent +most of the night in listening to the scampering of the cockroaches +about his room. It was a hot rain, and there was no morning freshness +in the air. The room was as damp as if the roof had been leaking, but +he began to realize that this was to be expected and endured in +Victoria for the next three months, and, shuddering damply, he +resolved that he would hunt down his man within a week, if “Baker” +were still upon the island. + +By the time he had finished a very English breakfast, for which he had +no appetite, the rain had ceased, leaving the air even hotter than +before. The sun shone dimly from a watery sky. Elliott felt oppressed +with an aching languor, but he was deeply anxious to finish his work +and get away, so he went out upon the hot streets. + +This time he would not repeat the mistakes of Bombay, and he wasted no +time in adventures about the harbour. He called a sedan-chair and, +having ascertained the names of the leading hotels of the city, he +proceeded to investigate them one by one. + +This search resulted in nothing but disappointment. There was no +record of the man he sought at any hotel, neither at the expensive +ones nor at the second and third class houses to which he presently +descended. The mate might indeed have changed his name again on +landing, though Elliott could think of no reason why he should do so. +At the Eastern Navigation Company’s offices he ascertained that +“Baker” had indeed landed at Victoria from the _Prince of Burmah_, but +nothing was known of his present whereabouts. + +Finally Elliott called upon the American consul, who could give him no +help. He had never heard of the _Clara McClay_ or her mate, but he +turned out to be a Marylander, and he took Elliott to dinner with him, +and made him free of the magnificent Hongkong Club, which is the envy +of all the foreign settlements on the Eastern seas. + +Under the sweeping punkahs in the vast, dusky rooms of the Club a +temperature was maintained more approaching to coolness than Elliott +had yet found in Victoria, and he lounged there for most of the +evening, observing that a great part of the male white population of +the city seemed to do likewise. It had come on to rain again, and the +shuffle of bare feet in the streets mingled with the dismal swish of +the downpour. He had been in Victoria for twenty-four hours, but he +found himself bitterly weary already and oppressed with a certainty of +failure. + +Failure was indeed his lot during the next two weeks, though by an +examination of the shipping-lists he assured himself that Baker had +not sailed from Hongkong in the last two months, at least, not by any +of the regular passenger steamers. It was out of all probability that +he should have gone into the interior of China, and beyond possibility +that he should have organized his wrecking expedition at so distant a +port. Yet it was almost equally beyond the limits of likelihood that +he should have come to Hongkong at all; and it was so beyond the +bounds of sanity that he should voluntarily stay there during the +rains that Elliott was forced to recognize that reason afforded no +clue to the man’s movements. + +To search for a stray straw in a haystack is trying to the temper, +especially when the search must be conducted under the conditions of a +vapour bath. But Elliott sweltered and toiled with a determination +that certainly deserved more success than he attained. He acquired +much knowledge that was new to him in that fortnight. He learned the +names and flavours of many strange and cooling drinks; he learned to +call a chair or a rickshaw when he had to go twenty yards; to hang his +clothes in an airtight safe overnight to save them from the +cockroaches; to scrape the nocturnal accumulation of mould from his +shoes in the morning, and to look inside them for centipedes before he +put them on. He learned to keep matches and writing-paper in glass +jars, to forget that there was such a thing as stiff linen, and to +call it a dry day if the rain occasionally slackened. But he learned +nothing of what he was most anxious to discover. He could find no +trace of either Baker or Burke at the hotels, at the consulates, at +the Club, or along the waterfront, and no man in Victoria admitted to +having ever heard of the _Clara McClay_. + +From time to time he went up to the Peak, behind the city, to gain +refreshment in that social and physical altitude. A house there cost +fifty guineas a month, but every one had it who pretended to comfort +or distinction. It was damp even on the Peak, but it was cool; +Hongkong Bay and Victoria lay almost perpendicularly below, veiled by +a steamy haze, but on the summit fresh breezes played among the China +pines, and Elliott always took the tramcar down the zigzag road again +with fresh courage for an adventure that was daily growing more +intolerably unadventurous. + +The same desire for coolness at any cost led him to take the +coasting-boat for Macao on the second Saturday of his stay. He had +heard much already of the dead Portuguese colony, the Monte Carlo of +the China coast, maintaining its wretched life by the lottery, the +fan-tan houses, and the perpetual issue of new series of postage +stamps for the beguilement of collectors. But Macao is cooler than +Hongkong, and those who cannot afford to live on the Peak find it a +convenient place for the weekend, much to the benefit of the +gaming-tables. + +This being a Saturday, the boat was crowded with Victoria business +men, who looked forward to a relief from the heat and the strain of +the week in the groves and the fan-tan saloons of Macao. The relief +began almost as soon as the roadstead was cleared, and a fresher +breeze blew from a clearer sky, a cool east wind that came from green +Japan. Elliott inhaled it with delight; it was almost as good as the +Peak. + +The verdant crescent of Macao Bay came in sight after a couple of +hours’ steaming. At either tip of the curve stood a tiny and +dilapidated block-house flying the Portuguese banner, and between +them, along the water’s edge, ran a magnificent boulevard shaded by +stately banyan-trees. The whole town appeared embowered in foliage; +the white houses glimmered from among green boughs, and behind the +town rose deeply wooded hills. Scarcely an idler sauntered on the +Praya; a couple of junks slept at the decaying wharves, and deep +silence brooded over the whole shore. + +“Beautiful!” ejaculated Elliott, unconsciously, overjoyed at the sight +of a place that looked as if it knew neither business nor rain nor +heat. + +“Beautiful enough—but dead and accursed,” replied a man who had been +reading in a deck-chair beside him. + +“It looks dead, I must say,” Elliott admitted, glancing again at the +deserted wharves. + +The other man stood up, slipping a magazine into his pocket. He was +gray-haired, tall, and very thin, with a face of reposeful benignity. +The magazine, Elliott observed, was the _Religious Outlook_, of San +Francisco. + +“An American missionary,” he thought; and his heart warmed at the +sight of a fellow countryman. + +“I suppose it is pretty bad,” he said, aloud. “The more reason for men +of your cloth to come over here.” + +The old man looked puzzled for a moment, and then gently shook his +head with a smile. + +“I’m not a missionary, as you seem to think. At least, I ain’t any +more of a missionary than I reckon every man ought to be who tries to +live as he should. I’m just a tired-out Hongkong bookkeeper.” + +“You’re an American, anyway.” + +“You are too, ain’t you?” + +“Certainly I am,” Elliott proclaimed. “And you—” + +The little steamer rammed the wharf with a thump that set everything +jingling on board. The gangplank was run out; the old man dived into +the cabin in evident search for something or some one, and Elliott +lost sight of him, and went ashore. + +Macao slumbered in profound serenity. As soon as the excursionists had +scattered, the Praya Grande was deserted. The great white houses +seemed asleep or dead behind their close green shutters and wrought +iron lattices that reminded Elliott of the Mexican southwest. But the +air was clear and fresh, and it was possible to walk about without +being drenched with perspiration. Elliott strolled, lounged on the +benches in the deserted park, visited the monument to Camoens above +the bay, and finally ate a supper at the only decent hotel in the +place, and enjoyed it thoroughly because it contained neither English +nor Chinese dishes. + +In the evening there was a little more animation. There were strollers +about the streets like himself; the band played in the park, and +through the iron-barred windows he caught occasional mysterious +glimpses of dark and seductive eyes under shadowy lashes. As he +sauntered past the blank front of a great stone house that in the days +of Macao’s greatness had possibly been the home of a prince, he was +stopped by a silk-clad coolie who lounged beside the wide, arched +entrance. + +“Chin-chin master. You wantchee makee one piecey fan-tan pidgin?” + +Elliott had no idea of playing, but he had no objection to watching a +little “fan-tan pidgin,” and he allowed the Celestial “capper” to +introduce him through the iron gate that barred the archway. The arch +was as long as a tunnel, leading to the square _patio_ at the heart of +the house, and here the scene was sufficiently curious. + +Here the fan-tan tables were set, completely hidden from Elliott’s +view by the packed mass of men that stood above them. Over each table +burned a ring of gas-jets; far above them the stars shone clear in the +blue sky beyond the roofless court. Round the _patio_ ran a wide +balcony, dimly lighted, where men were drinking at little tables or +leaning over to look down at the game, and there was a scurrying to +and fro of deft, white-robed Chinese waiters. Round the games there +was absolute silence, except for the click of the counters, the rattle +of the coin, and the impassive voice of the dealer as he announced, +“Number one side!” + +Elliott pushed into the nearest group till he could see the table. +Opposite to him sat the dealer, a yellow Portuguese half-caste, his +hands full of small gilded counters; and beside him the croupier +leaned over shallow boxes of gold, silver, and bills. The centre of +the table was covered with a large square piece of sheet lead, with +each side numbered, and coins scattered about the sides and corners. +The dealer filled both his slim, dirty hands with the gilded counters +and counted them out in little piles of four each. There were two +counters left over. + +“Number two side!” he announced, wearily. + +Those who had staked their money upon the second side of the leaden +square were at once paid three times their stake by the croupier; +those who had placed their bets at the corner of the first and second, +or the second and third were paid even money. The dealer again plunged +his hands into the great heap of shining counters. + +Round the table men of all conditions, nationalities, and colours hung +upon the dropping of the bits of gilded metal. There were coolies +staking their small silver coins, Hongkong merchants, white and +Chinese, putting down sovereigns and Bank of England notes, half a +dozen English men-of-war’s men gambling away their pay, and a few +tourists playing nothing at all. There were Japanese there, Sikhs from +Hongkong, and a couple of wild Malays. The desertion of the streets +was explained. The whole moribund life of the colony throbbed in these +fierce ulcers. + +Elliott had seen the game often enough already to understand it, and +he was determined not to play. The money Henninger had given him was +going fast enough as it was. He watched the game, however, with +considerable interest, and began to predict the numbers mentally. +There was a run on the even numbers. Four came up three times in +succession, then two, then four again, then three, one, and again back +to the even numbers. Elliott watched the handful of gilded discs that +the dealer was counting out, and long before the end was reached he +felt certain of what the remainder would be, and usually he was right. +If he had only played his predictions, he calculated that he would +then have won three or four hundred dollars. He might as well have had +it as not; he remembered the wonderful winning at roulette in +Nashville, and the money in his pocket almost stirred of itself. He +had a couple of sovereigns in his hand before he knew how they came +there, but it was too late to play them on that deal. + +He waited, therefore, and elbowed himself through the crowd to be +nearer the table. This change in position brought him close behind the +shoulder of a tall man with gray hair, who was leaning anxiously +across the table as the gilded counters slipped through the dealer’s +delicate fingers. Elliott glanced abstractedly aside at the man’s +face, and the shock of surprise made him forget the game. + +It was certainly his clerical-looking friend of the steamer, though +his face no longer wore its expression of sweetness and repose. He was +desperately intent on the game, that was evident. As the counters were +cast out his lips moved counting “one, two, three, four!” He had his +hand full of gold coins, and three sovereigns lay before him on number +two. + +“Number four side!” the dealer proclaimed. + +The old man groaned audibly. The croupier swept in the losing stakes +and paid out the winning ones with incredible celerity. There was a +pause, while fresh bets were made. The old man looked from one side of +the square to another with agonized perplexity, fingering his coin. +Finally he put down three sovereigns on the fourth side, and almost +immediately changed his mind and shoved them across to the third. + +Elliott did not play. The surprise of this encounter had brought him +to himself, and he watched the man, wondering. It was plain that the +old man was no gambler; he did not even make a pretence at assuming +the imperturbable air of the sporting man. He was childishly agitated; +he looked as if he might cry if his bad luck continued. Elliott called +him a fool, and yet he was sorry for him. + +“Joss-pidgin man,” he heard a coolie whisper to another, indicating +the inexpert player with contempt. + +Number four side won, and the old man lost again upon the next deal. +His handful of gold was diminishing, but he staked six sovereigns upon +the second side of the square. “Oh, Lord! Oh, Lord, help me!” Elliott +caught the murmur from his moving lips. Elliott was disgusted, sick +and sorry at the pitiful sight, and yet it was none of his business. +The man turned once and looked him full in the face with absent eyes +that saw nothing, faded blue eyes that were full of weak tears. + +“Number one side!” called the dealer, and the six sovereigns were +raked in by the bank. The old man now had six coins left, and he +staked three of them without hesitation on the second side as before. +Squeezed against his side, Elliott could feel his thin old arms +trembling with painful excitement. + +“Number one side!” + +A kind of explosive sob burst from the player’s lips. He followed his +money with hungry eyes as it was gathered up, and then his glance +wandered about the circle of white and brown faces with a pitiful +appeal. His eye met Elliott’s; it was full of a hurt, bewildered +disappointment. The old man put out his hand to stake his last pieces. + +Elliott grasped his arm, on a sudden impulse. + +“Don’t play any more,” he said, in a low tone. “You’ve got no luck +to-night.” + +The player looked blankly at him, and tried to pull away his arm. + +“Stop it, I say,” reiterated Elliott. “You’d better come away with me. +You don’t know anything about this game.” + +“Who are you? I don’t know you. You’re trying to rob me, but I’ll get +my money back in spite of you.” + +“You old fool, I’m the best friend you’ve got in this house. You come +right along with me,” said Elliott, energetically, trying to drag the +gambler away from the table. + +He resisted with a sort of limp determination, but Elliott hauled him +through the circle of players that immediately closed up behind them. +No one troubled to look around; the game went on, and the dealer +announced, “Number four side!” + +“Now put your money in your pocket. We’ll go out,” Elliott ordered, +wondering at himself for taking so much trouble. For aught he knew, +the man might have been able to afford a loss of thousands. The +unlucky player fumbled tremulously with his sovereigns, and Elliott +was finally obliged to tuck them away for him. + +The guard at the gate let them out, and Elliott resolved to take +precautions against his protégé’s returning to the game. + +“You see this Sahib?” he said to the coolie. “Him have lost allee +cash. You no pay him go inside no more, savvy? No more cash, him makee +plenty bobbery. You savvy?” + +“Savvy plenty, master,” replied the coolie, with a knowing grin. + +“You’ll thank me for this to-morrow, if you don’t now,” said Elliott. +“Where do you intend to go?” + +The old man made no immediate answer, but he leaned limply on +Elliott’s arm, apparently in a state of nervous collapse. Unexpectedly +he turned away, hid his face in his hands against the white wall of +the house, and began to sob. + +“Oh, here! This won’t do. Confound it, man, brace up! Don’t break down +before a Chinaman,” cried Elliott, irritated and sorry. + +“I have fallen again!” moaned the gambler, hysterically. “I am +vile—yes, steeped in sin. Forty-seven pounds gone in an hour! And my +one hope was to live a life that would tell for the Cross in this +pagan land. I am weak, weak as water, and I have taken my child’s +bread and cast it unto the dogs. They robbed me. My God, why hast thou +forsaken me? I hoped to win ten times my money—I needed it so!” + +Elliott seized him by the arm and dragged him down the street in the +ivory moonlight. The old man’s face was ivory-white, and great tears +trickled from the faded blue eyes. + +“Don’t touch me,—I am not fit for you to touch me! I never gambled +before. If I only had it back again—forty-seven pounds—two months’ +savings. I will get it back. Let me go. I will win this time!” + +“You’ll get a knife in your back if you go there again. I’ve left word +to keep you out. For heaven’s sake, keep cool!” implored Elliott, in +great distress. He had never seen an old man break down before. It +wrung his heart, and he made a clumsy attempt at consolation. + +“Cheer up, now. You’re not broke, are you? I can lend you a pound or +so, if you need it. You’ll feel better in the morning.” + +They reached a little park at the angle of two streets, and the +gamester threw himself upon a bench. He had ceased to weep, but he +looked at Elliott with a tragic face. + +“You know little,” he said, sombrely. “You are young and strong, but +Satan stands at your back as surely as he does at mine. Pray, +therefore, lest you also fall into temptation.” + +Elliott could think of nothing to say in reply to this. + +“As for me, it is too late. And yet,” throwing his hands up +despairingly, “thou knowest, O Lord, if I have not served +thee—laboured for thee in pagan lands with all my strength. Wasted, +wasted! What was I to strive against the Adversary? I thought that I +had begun a new life where all my errors would be forgotten, and now +it is crushed—gone—and my child will starve among strangers.” + +“Tell me all about it. It’ll make you feel better, and maybe I can +help you,” Elliott adjured him, afraid that he would grow hysterical +again. “First of all, what’s your name? You said you were a +bookkeeper, or something, didn’t you?” + +The victim of chance seemed to cast about in his memory. “My name is +Eaton,” he announced at last, and stopped. + +“Well, and what about your new life and your child? You haven’t +gambled them away, have you? Is your family in Hongkong?” + +Eaton transferred his gaze blankly to Elliott’s face, and allowed it +to remain there for some seconds. + +“You seem to be a good man,” he said, finally. + +“Not particularly, but I’d like to help you if I can,” replied the +adventurer. + +“My little girl is coming to Hongkong. I sent for her—from the States. +She will arrive to-morrow, and I have no money.” + +“You sent for her? You sent for an American child to come to Hongkong +in the rainy season? You ought to be shot!” Elliott ejaculated. + +“She was all I had, and I am an old man. I was going to begin a new +life, with her help, and now I have lost the money I had saved for her +coming.” + +“What in the world made you go up against that cursed game, then?” +cried Elliott, wrathfully. + +“I wanted money—more money. I had a chance to make a fortune. I dare +say you have never known what it is to feel ready to turn to anything +to make a little money—anything, even to evil. And yet this was for a +good purpose. But now I have nothing. Tell me what to do.” + +“I can lend you twenty pounds,” said Elliott, after cogitating for a +little. “That ought to tide you over your present difficulty, and +you’ve still got your job, I suppose. Yes, I’ll put twenty pounds in +your daughter’s hands when she arrives, on the condition that she +doesn’t give you a cent of it.” + +“You will lend me twenty pounds—you—a stranger?” cried Eaton, with a +stare. “You—I can’t thank you, but I will pray—no, I can’t even pray!” +He put his head on the back of the bench and sobbed. “You must forgive +me,” he said, raising his head again. “I have never found so much +kindness in the world. You are right; do not trust me with a cent. I +am not fit to be trusted.” + +“Oh, yes, you are. I shouldn’t have said that,” encouraged Elliott, +feeling horribly embarrassed. “And now, when is your daughter coming?” + +“On the Southern Mail steamer. It touched at Yokohama eight days ago, +and it’s due to arrive here to-morrow afternoon.” + +“Very good. We’ll go back to Victoria in the morning, and we’ll both +meet the steamer. But what possessed you to send for her at this time +of year? Hongkong is bad enough for strong men.” + +“My girl is all I have in the world, and I haven’t seen her for so +long,” replied Eaton, visibly brightening. “Maybe it was a father’s +selfishness, but I reckon she needs my care.” + +“Your care!” said Elliott, brutally. “Where are you going to sleep +to-night? Come with me to my hotel.” + +“I had planned such a happy home,” Eaton went on, as they walked +through the moonlit streets. “I have had a hard life, but I had hoped +to settle here in comfort with my little girl. We can do it, can’t +we?” + +“I suppose so,” replied Elliott. “Though it seems to me that Hongkong +is a mighty poor place for a happy home.” + +“It isn’t the place; it’s the love and peace,” the gambler prattled +on, cheerfully. He appeared quite happy and restored in having thrown +his cares upon Elliott’s shoulders. “I have fallen into sin more than +once already, but the Lord knows how sorely I have repented, and His +grace is abounding. Don’t you think they must have cheated me in that +place?” + +“Oh, no. You were just out of luck. You should never play when you are +out of luck,” said Elliott, sagely. + +“It seems to me that I ought to have won. I suppose you have gambled +sometimes. Did you ever win?” + +“Occasionally.” + +“Well, luck or not, I shall never stake money again. I have been +treated with more mercy than I deserve. I just begin to realize the +horrible pit that I barely escaped. What would have become of me? I +hardly dare to think of it. You have saved me, perhaps soul as well as +body.” + +“Oh, stop it!” Elliott exclaimed. + +“I don’t think of myself so much as of my little girl. I shall tell +her the whole story, and she will know how to thank you better than I +can.” + +“You’ll do nothing of the sort!” cried Elliott, angrily. “She’ll have +troubles enough in this pestilential place without that.” + +During the night Elliott more than once repented of his bargain, which +seemed likely to involve his having the Eaton family slung round his +neck to the end of his stay in the East. The old man was +well-intentioned enough; he bristled with high resolutions; but he was +clearly as unfit for responsibility as a child. Elliott deeply pitied +the unfortunate daughter, but he could not feel himself bound to +assume the position of guardian to the pair. He determined to meet the +steamer as he had promised, hand over the promised twenty pounds, and +henceforward avoid the neighbourhood of both father and daughter. + +The returning boat left Macao at ten o’clock the next morning, and +they reëntered the steam and rain of Hongkong harbour. At three +o’clock the big Southern Mail steamer loomed slowly in sight through +the haze, surrounded by a fleet of small junks and shore boats. Eaton +and Elliott boarded her before any one had landed. Her decks were +crowded with passengers, hurrying aimlessly about, staring over the +rail or standing guard upon piles of luggage. + +Elliott was making his way through the throng when some one touched +his arm. + +“Mr. Elliott! Is it possible you are here? What are you doing? I +thought you were in India. I was so frightened—oh!” + +“Margaret—Miss Laurie! Don’t faint!” gasped Elliott, shocked into +utter bewilderment, and scarcely believing his eyes or ears. + +“I’m not going to faint. I never faint,” said Margaret, weakly. “But I +was so startled and frightened. Did you know my father was here?” + +“Maggie!” cried Eaton, pushing past him, and in a moment the old man, +whose face beamed like the sun, had his daughter in his arms. + + + + + CHAPTER XI. ILLUMINATION + + +The life of the Reverend Titus E. Laurie contained two active +principles. The first of these was a tireless enthusiasm for the +propagation of the principles of Methodist Christianity, and this had +moved him ever since he could remember. The second was solicitude for +his daughter Margaret, which, necessarily, had been operative for only +the last twenty years. During these twenty years he had been absent +from America almost all the time; the total number of weeks he had +spent with Margaret would scarcely have aggregated a year; so that his +affection was obliged to take the form of voluminous letters from +out-of-the-way places in Asia and Polynesia, and of remittances of +more money than he could afford. + +But his religious work took always first place in his mind. There +never was, one might suppose, a man more clearly “called to the work” +than Titus E. Laurie. He cared little for theology. He had never had +any doubts of anything; if he had had them, they would not have +troubled him. His temper was purely practical, and the ideal which +filled his soul was the redemption of the world from its state of sin +and death by the forces of the gospel as systematized by John Wesley. +He was tolerant of other Protestant churches, but not of Roman +Catholicism. He had preached when he was fifteen; at eighteen he was a +“local preacher,” and at twenty he was in full charge of a church of +his own in South Rock, New York. + +He was shifted about on that “circuit” according to the will of the +Conference till the opening of the war, when he went to the front as +an army nurse. In three months, however, he came back, vaguely in +disgrace. It appeared that he had been unable to resist the entreaties +of his patients, and had supplied them surreptitiously with tabooed +chewing tobacco and liquor. But this was an error of kindness and +inexperience; it was easily condoned by his supporters, and he resumed +his more regular pastoral work. In 1866 he was much in demand as a +revivalist. + +Mr. Laurie had charge of the funds of his church as well as of its +souls. It was hard for a non-producer to live in the period of high +prices succeeding the war. Just what he did with the money in his +custody was never definitely ascertained; probably he could not have +said himself; but he was unable to restore it when the time came. He +did not face his parishioners; he left in the night for Mexico, +leaving behind a letter of agonized remorse and promises of amendment. + +In Mexico he worked for two years in the mines and on a coffee +plantation, and sent home the whole amount of his embezzlement in +monthly instalments. At the same time he undertook to conduct +Methodist prayer-meetings among the mine labourers, who were chiefly +Indians and half-castes. This brought him into collision with his +employer, the local priest, and his prospective converts. He was +threatened, stoned, ducked, and menaced with murder, but he persisted +and actually succeeded in establishing a tiny Methodist community, +which survived for six months after he left it. + +Laurie was forgiven by his church, and returned to the North, but not +to resume pastoral work. He became a bookkeeper in New York; but the +evangelist’s instinct was too strong for him, and he took to mission +work on the lower East Side. After a year of this, he succeeded in +getting himself sent to the Sandwich Islands as a missionary, from +which post he returned in five years, in disgrace once more. There +were rumours of a shady transaction in smuggled opium, in which he had +been involved, though not to his own pecuniary benefit. + +He remained in America this time for three or four years, and married +a lady much older than himself. These domestic arrangements were +broken up, however, by his leaving once more for the South Seas, +having been able to secure another appointment for the mission field. +He never saw his wife again. She died a year later in giving birth to +a daughter, who was taken in charge by an aunt living in the West. + +Since that time his labours had extended over much of Polynesia, with +digressions into Africa and China. He had sailed the first missionary +schooner, the _Olive Branch_, among the Islands, and he had preached +on the beach to brown warriors armed to the teeth, who had never +before seen a white man. But the Reverend Titus E. Laurie escaped with +his life. He thrived on danger, from the Fiji spears to the typhoons +that came near to swamping his wretchedly found vessel on every +voyage. + +And yet he did not escape scathless. It was rumoured that the +fascinations of certain of his female converts in Tahiti had proved +too much for him; a scandal was averted by his leaving the station. He +was accused of pearling in forbidden waters; and in the end he had to +resign his command of the _Olive Branch_, as it was conclusively +proved that the missionary schooner had run opium in her hold with the +connivance of her chief. The Rev. Titus E. Laurie, in fact, was +granite against hostility when in the regular line of his work. He was +made of the stuff of martyrs, but responsibilities found him weak, and +he could no more make head against a sudden strong temptation than he +could deliberately plan a crime. + +Elliott gleaned these details of Mr. Laurie’s career by scraps in the +course of the next three weeks, but just how the missionary had come +to change his name and settle in Victoria was a mystery to him. At any +rate, Laurie, or Eaton, as he persisted in calling himself, had +secured a position as accountant in the godown of one of the largest +English importing firms, and seemed to propose to spend the remainder +of his life in that station. He had now been there for over two +months, and Elliott presently discovered that he was already in the +habit of visiting the mission settlement at Kowloon and taking part in +the meetings held there. The missionaries on duty found him a valuable +assistant, and, as Elliott discovered, had made proposals to him to +join them; but these Eaton had refused. + +Accustomed to the tropics, the heat did not affect him much, but +Elliott at once insisted that a house must be rented upon the Peak for +Miss Margaret. Coming directly from the sparkling air of the American +plains, the girl could never have lived in the hot steam of the lower +town. Laurie demurred a little on the score of expense,—not that he +grudged the money, but because he did not have it. Elliott said +nothing, but began to look about, and was lucky enough to obtain the +lease of a cottage upon the mountain-top at a nominal figure, +considering the locality. It had been taken by a retired naval officer +who was unexpectedly obliged to return to England and was glad to +dispose of the lease, so that Elliott bound himself to pay only eighty +dollars a month for the remainder of the summer. + +He had the lease transferred to Laurie’s new name. “If you say a word +to your daughter about this,” he warned him when he handed over the +document, “I’ll tell her about your sporting life in Macao.” + +The missionary smiled uneasily, and then looked grave. “I can never +begin to thank you, much less repay you. I am not much good +now,—nothing but a weak old man, but my prayers—” + +“Oh, cut it out!” said Elliott, impatiently. + +Laurie flushed. + +“I beg your pardon; I didn’t mean that, of course. Only, you know, +your daughter and I are old friends, and you mustn’t talk of gratitude +for any little thing I do.” + +“But there is one thing I wish,” replied the old man, after an +embarrassed moment. “I insist that you share the cottage with us.” + +Elliott hesitated, wondering whether it would be judicious, and +yielded. + +“Certainly I will,” he said, “and glad to have the chance.” + +Margaret was delighted at the appearance of the cottage, a tiny +bungalow, deep-verandahed, standing amid a grove of China pines that +rustled perpetually with a cooling murmur. The highway leading to it +was more like a conservatory than a street. + +“You dear old papa!” she exclaimed, sitting down rapturously upon the +steps, after having rushed through the building from front to rear, +startling the dignified and spotless Chinese cook which they had +inherited from the former tenants. + +“How good you are to get all this for me! It must have cost such a +lot, too. Mr. Elliott says that houses up here cost two hundred +dollars a month. You didn’t pay all that, did you? Now we must be very +economical, and we’ll all work. I’m going to discharge that Chinaman.” + +“You can’t work. You’d scandalize the Peak,” said Elliott. + +“I don’t care anything for the Peak. I’m going to fire that Chinee +first of all. I’m afraid of him, he looks so mysteriously solemn, as +if he knew all sorts of Oriental poisons, and I never can learn +pidgin-English. No, I’m going to cook, and I’ll make you doughnuts and +fried chicken and mashed potatoes and real American coffee and all the +good old United States things that you haven’t tasted for so long.” + +“But you can’t do anything like that. No white woman works in this +country,” Elliott expostulated. + +“But I shall,” she retorted, firmly. + +And she did,—or, rather, she tried hard to do it. But it turned out to +be difficult, and often impossible, to procure the ingredients for the +preparation of the promised American dishes, and she was by increasing +degrees forced back upon the fare of the country, which she did not +quite know how to deal with. It did not matter,—not even when it came +to living chiefly upon canned goods, which usually were American +enough to satisfy the most ardent patriot. The three had come to +regard the affair in the light of a prolonged picnic, and they agreed +that it was too hot to eat doughnuts and fried chicken, anyway. + +Laurie still went down the mountain to the sweltering lower city every +morning and did not return till sunset. Elliott and Margaret usually +spent the day together, for he had temporarily abandoned the search +for the mate. An unconquerable horror of the town had filled him, and +he silenced an uneasy conscience by telling himself that he would +learn nothing new if he did go there. + +Sometimes he helped Margaret to wash the breakfast things, and then he +sat lazily in a long chair on the wide veranda, smoking an excellent +Manila cheroot and reading the _China Daily Mail_. He could hear +Margaret softly moving about inside the house; she dropped casual +remarks to him through the open window, and usually she ended by +coming out and sitting with him, reading or sewing with an industry +that even the climate could not tame. Below them the steamy +rain-clouds drifted and wavered over the city; Hongkong Roads ran like +a zigzag strip of gray steel out to the ocean, but it was cool, if +damp, upon the Peak, and the two had reached such a degree of intimacy +that sometimes for an hour they did not say a word. + +To Elliott this period bore an inexpressible charm. For many years his +associates had been almost altogether men, the rough and strong men of +action of the West; and the graceful domesticity that a womanly woman +instinctively gathers about her was new to him, or so old that it was +almost forgotten. They were alone together, for the ex-missionary +scarcely counted, and they knew no one else on the Island. It was +almost as if the Island had been a desert one, and they wrecked upon +it. They were isolated in the midst of this great, torrid, bustling +half-Chinese colony, and in that most improbable spot he found a +little corner of perfume with such quiet and peace as he had scarcely +imagined. He did not quite understand its charm, and he was not much +given to analyzing his sensations. It was enough for him that he was +happy as he had never been before in his life, and he thanked the +treasure trail for leading him to this, and tried to forget that the +trail was not yet ended. + +But he was astonished to find that Margaret made no reference to her +father’s change of name, and seemed to accept it with as little +surprise as if she supposed an alias to be a regular Anglo-Chinese +custom. Elliott was afraid to speak of the matter, but his amazement +grew till he could no longer restrain his curiosity, and he asked her +one morning, pointblank. + +“Miss Margaret, do you know why your father has changed his name?” + +“Yes, I know,” she replied, looking slightly troubled. “I can’t tell +you the reason, though. But it was for nothing disgraceful,—though I +don’t need to tell you that. He had to do it; I can’t say any more.” + +“I beg your pardon—I merely wondered—of course I knew there was some +good reason. It was none of my business, anyway,” Elliott blundered, +privately wondering what fiction Laurie had dished up for his +daughter’s consumption. + +“There is the best of reasons. My father is one of the noblest men in +the world. You don’t know him yet, but he knows you. He is very keen, +and he has been studying you; he told me so.” + +“Oh!” said Elliott. + +“Yes. And he has the very highest opinion of you, I may tell you, if +your modesty will stand it. He says you have helped him a great deal. +Have you?” + +“Not so far as I know.” + +“Well, he thinks you have, which comes to the same thing. Some day he +may be able to do something for you—something really great.” + +“He has done it already in bringing you out here,” said Elliott, and +was sorry directly he had said it. + +“I don’t like speeches like that,” said Miss Margaret. “Now, you’ve +never told me why you are here yourself.” + +“Didn’t I tell you that I came on business?” + +“Yes, but what sort of business? Another hunt for easy fortunes, I +suppose, such as you promised to give up. How much do you stand to win +this time?” + +“What would you say if I said millions?” + +“I’d say that you didn’t appear to be looking for them very hard.” + +Elliott squirmed in the long chair and moaned plaintively. + +“I haven’t seen you looking for them at all, in fact. Since we moved +to the Peak, you’ve done nothing but sit in that long chair.” + +“Yes, hang it, you’re right,” Elliott exclaimed, sitting up. “It’s +true. I’ve been wasting my time for two weeks, spending my partners’ +money and not doing the work I’m paid to do.” + +“You must do it, then. Tell me, what is it?” + +“No, I can’t tell it, not even to you. It’s not my own secret. I’ve +got three partners in it, and my particular task is to hunt down a man +whom I never set eyes on. I’ve chased him a matter of ten thousand +miles, and he’s supposed to be somewhere in this city,” looking down +at the wet smoke that hung over the bustling port. + +Somewhere under that haze was the clue to the drowned million, and he +felt the shame of his idleness. He had been philandering away his +time, and at this juncture when every day was priceless. He turned +back to the girl. + +“Thank you for waking me up. Your advice always comes at the +psychological moment,” he said. “My holiday’s over. To-morrow I start +work again.” + +He went down to the city that afternoon, in fact, but the old +perplexity returned upon him when he tried to think how and where he +was to begin his search. He went the rounds of the steamer offices and +scrutinized the outgoing passenger-lists for the past three weeks. +There was no name that he recognized. He tried the consulates again +without any result. He could think of no new move, and he was +irritated at his own lack of resource. + +Yet the Hongkong Club was the centre of all the foreign life of the +colony; it was visited daily by almost every white man on the island, +and if Burke, or Baker, were in the city, he would be certain to +gravitate there sooner or later. So Elliott took to spending days in +that institution, eagerly scrutinizing every big-boned elderly man of +seafaring appearance who entered. But, as he often reflected, he might +rub elbows with his man daily and not know it; and he regretted more +than ever that he had not obtained a full description of the mate. + +After a week of this sedentary sort of man-hunting, he became imbued +with a deep sense of the futility of the thing. It was only by the +merest chance that he could hope to learn anything. It was chance that +had assisted the affair up to the present; the whole scheme was one +gigantic gamble, discovered, financed, and operated by sheer good +luck, and the run seemed exhausted. Anyhow, he thought fatalistically, +good fortune was as likely to strike him on the Peak as in the city, +and he took to spending his days on the veranda once more. He cabled +again to Henninger: + +“Track totally lost. What shall do?” + +Still, he did not totally abandon the search, but rather he made it a +pretext for little exploring expeditions round the city and suburbs +with Margaret, accompanied by her father when he could get away from +business. They prowled about Kowloon, and they all visited Macao +together, where Laurie exhibited the blandest oblivion of his recent +lapse, and lectured his companions most edifyingly upon the curse of +gambling, the degeneracy of the Portuguese race, and the corruption of +the Church of Rome. + +They visited the shipyards opposite Hongkong, saw the naval +headquarters and the missionary station, and, a week later, all three +of them crossed to Formosa on Saturday and returned on Sunday, merely +for the refreshing effect of the open sea breezes. + +The heavy Chinese smell came off the coast as they returned into +Hongkong Roads late on Sunday night. Elliott sickened at the thought +of resuming the search that had become hateful to him, in a city that, +but for one thing, had become intolerable. + +Margaret was leaning over the bows with him, watching the prow rise +and fall in splashes of orange and gold phosphorescence. The +missionary was dozing in a chair somewhere astern. A score of coolies +were gambling and talking loudly between decks. + +“This is all so wonderful to me!” said Margaret, suddenly. “Only a +month or two ago I was in Nebraska, but it seems years. I had never +seen anything; I had no idea what a great and wonderful place the +world was. I think of it all, and I sometimes wonder if I am the same +girl. But do you know what it makes me think most? + +“It makes me feel,” she went on, as Elliott did not reply, “how great +and noble my father must be to have given his life to help this great, +swarming heathen world. I never knew there were so many heathens; I +thought they were mostly Methodists and Episcopalians. Don’t you think +he really is the best man in the world?” + +“I never saw a man so full of high ideals,” Elliott answered. + +He had answered at random, scarcely listening to what she said. But +the sound of her voice through the darkness had brought illumination +to him, and he realized why he had shrunk from returning to the +gold-hunt. He had found a higher ideal himself, and as he thought of +his years and years of ineffectual, topsyturvy scrambling after a +fortune which he would not have known how to keep if he had found, +they seemed to him inexpressibly futile and childish. He had missed +what was most worth while in life—but it was not too late. He hoped, +and doubted, and his heart beat suddenly with an almost painful +thrilling. + +Her white muslin sleeve almost touched his shoulder, but her face was +turned from him, looking wide-eyed toward the dark China coast. He +knew that she was meditating upon the virtues of her evangelistic +father. He did not speak, but she turned her head quickly and looked +at him, with a puzzled, almost frightened glance. + +“What’s the matter?” he said, almost in a whisper. + +“I don’t know,” Margaret murmured, and her eyes dropped. For a moment +she stood silent; she seemed to palpitate; then she roused herself +with a little shrug. + +“I am nervous to-night. For a moment I had a shudder—I felt as if +something had happened, or was happening—I don’t know what. Come, +let’s go back and find father. We’re nearly in.” She thrust her arm +under his with a return to her usual frank confidence. + +“I’m so glad you’re here, too,” she said, impulsively. + +This was not what Elliott wanted, not what he had seen revealed +suddenly between the blaze of the stars and the flame of the sea. But +he would not tell her so—not yet. Not for anything would he shatter +their open comradeship. + + + + + CHAPTER XII. OPEN WAR + + +The day after he returned from Formosa, Elliott received a reply to +his cablegram, which said, simply: + + “Find it. Buck up! + + “Henninger.” + +It was easy to give the order, Elliott thought. But during the next +few days the heat was terrible, even for Hongkong. On the Peak, men +sweltered; in the lower city, they died. It rained, without cease, a +rain that seemed to steam up from the hot earth as fast as it fell, +and, to add terror to discomfort, half a dozen cases of cholera were +discovered in the Chinese city, and an epidemic was feared. Most of +the offices employing white clerks closed daily at noon, and there was +a great exodus of the foreign population to Yokohama. + +On Sunday it cooled slightly, however, and the rain ceased. To gain +what advantage they could of the respite, Margaret and Elliott walked +out to the edge of the mountain-top, a quarter of a mile away, and +spent the forenoon there. The missionary dozed at home; he slept a +great deal during the hot weather. + +They were returning for lunch, which Margaret persistently refused to +call “tiffin,” and had almost reached the bungalow, when a man stepped +down from the veranda and came toward them along the deeply shaded +street. At the first glance Elliott thought he recognized the +graceful, alert figure, and he was right. It was Sevier, who had just +left the house. + +The Alabaman stopped short when he met them, and lifted his hat, +without, however, betraying any particular surprise. + +“Good mo’nin’, Elliott. So you’re in Hongkong?” + +“As you see,” replied Elliott, a trifle stiffly. “Were you looking for +me?” + +“Not particularly. I was looking for another man.” + +“How long have you been here?” + +“Oh, about a couple of weeks.” + +There was a pause, which Elliott felt to be a nervous one. + +“How are the bereaved relatives of your wreck’s crew?” Sevier went on. + +“I don’t know. Have you found the man you were looking for?” + +“Not exactly. Have you?” + +“No.” + +There was another pause. Margaret was looking puzzled and impatient. + +“I beg your pardon, I’m delaying you,” said Sevier, with a slight bow +toward the girl. “I wish you’d dine with me at the Club to-night at +seven o’clock. Can you? I have an idea that I can tell you something +that you’d be glad to know.” + +Elliott reflected for a moment, with some suspicion. “Thank you, I +shall be delighted,” he accepted, formally, at last. + +“At seven o’clock,” repeated Sevier, bowing once more, and passing on. + +“Who was that man? I never saw him before. What were you talking +about?” demanded Margaret, when they were out of earshot. + +“To tell you the truth, I don’t exactly know,” Elliott replied, in a +sort of abstracted excitement. + +Margaret went to her own room to take off her hat, and Elliott turned +into the big, darkened sitting-room, where he was confronted with the +spectacle of the missionary seated beside the table with his head +buried in his arms. + +“What did that man want here?” Elliott demanded, hastily. “Why, what’s +the matter with you?” + +Laurie raised a face that was covered with perspiration, and haggard +with some emotion. His mouth trembled, and he looked half-dazed. + +“That man!” he moaned, vaguely. “Oh, that man!” + +“Yes. What did he want?” + +“What did he want?” repeated Laurie, clearly incapable of coherent +thought. “Oh, heavens! what did he not want?” + +Elliott mixed an iced glass of water and lime juice, for the +missionary would never touch spirits. + +“Here, drink this, and try to brace up,” he said. + +Laurie drank it like a docile child, and looked up with frightened +eyes. + +“I have done wrong,” he said, pathetically. “I have sinned often. I +have fallen times past counting.” + +“I know it,” said Elliott. “What have you been doing now?” + +“The question is, what am I going to do?” replied the old man, with a +flash of animation. “It has all been for her—whatever errors I have +made. No one can say that I have ever profited by a dollar that was +not honestly my own.” + +“Well—all right. But for goodness’ sake try to tell me what Sevier was +asking about.” + +Laurie hesitated for a long time. + +“It was about the ship—the _Clara McClay_” he produced, at last. + +Elliott stared, speechless for a moment, shocked into utter +bewilderment. + +“The _Clara McClay_?” he babbled. “The—” he was going to say the +“gold-ship.” + +“What do you know about her? Where did you hear of her?” + +“I was on her. I was wrecked with her.” + +“The devil you were!” + +“Yes, wrecked, and saved only by the Lord’s wonderful mercy. I floated +about for days in an open boat.” + +“Look here,” said Elliott. “I rather fancy that you’re running more +risk now than you were in that open boat. You don’t know what deep +waters you’re sailing. Sevier’s a dangerous man. If you want me to +help you, you’ll have to tell me the whole story.” + +The missionary acquiesced with the alacrity which he always showed in +casting his mundane responsibilities upon stronger shoulders. + +“I am ashamed to tell you the story,” he said. “And yet it was not my +fault. At least, I had no intention of doing any wrong whatever. I was +in the work at Durban under the British Mission Board. I had been +there for two years, and I may say that my efforts had been abundantly +blessed,” he added, with humble pride. + +“But I was tempted, and I was weak. I had a large sum of money in my +hands—nearly five hundred dollars—which the Board had supplied for the +building of a new chapel. I did not covet it for myself, but my salary +was long overdue, and it was past my time to send a remittance to my +daughter. The fund would not be needed for months, and I would have +paid back every cent of it.” + +“So you took it,” Elliott interrupted. + +“I sent the remittance. About two weeks later an officer of the +Mission Society came through South Africa, and I was called upon for +an account of the fund. I was disgraced. I could have escaped, but I +would not do that. I started to England in charge of the officer to be +tried for embezzlement. There was an American steamer sailing from +Durban, and we embarked on her. The name of the steamer was the _Clara +McClay_. + +“I stayed in my cabin all the time, so I do not know anything of the +voyage. I believe we called at Delagoa Bay for cargo and passengers. +We had been out over a week when the ship struck. It was very dark, +with a high sea running, and she seemed to be breaking up. They +launched several boats, but all were sunk before they left the ship’s +side. + +“The Society’s officer went in one of them and tried to induce me to +go with him, but I have been many years at sea, and I knew the risk of +trying to launch boats in that position. He was drowned, with most of +the ship’s company. At daylight there were only five of us left,—the +mate, three Boers who had been passengers, and myself. The sea was +quieter then, and we managed to get the last of the boats overboard +and to get clear. + +“The mate had been severely injured about the head by falling from the +bridge when she struck, and I felt sure that he could not live unless +we were picked up soon. There was no use in landing on the desert reef +where we had struck, so we sailed north with a fair wind, for there +was fortunately a sail in the boat. We hoped to get into the track of +India-bound vessels,—or at least I hoped for it, for the Boers knew +nothing of navigation, and the mate was growing to be either delirious +or unconscious most of the time. + +“It was a week before we were picked up. I won’t tell you of its +horrors. The water ran out, under the sun of the equator. The Boers +drank sea-water, in spite of everything I could say, and all three +went mad and threw themselves overboard. I just managed to keep alive +and to keep the mate alive by dipping myself frequently in the sea and +drenching his clothes with the bailer. But he died about the fourth +day. He was conscious for a few hours before he died, and I did what I +could to prepare his mind. + +“I had to throw his body overboard. I could not have kept it in the +boat—in that heat. But I kept his oilskin clothes and his uniform cap, +thinking they might be needful. He had nearly a hundred pounds in +sovereigns in a belt, also, which he told me to take, as he had no +relatives, and I took them. + +“It rained the night after he died, and that saved me. Two days later +I was picked up by an Italian steamer, called the _Andrea Sforzia_.” + +Elliott emitted an ejaculation. + +“Yes, it was providential,” went on the missionary, patiently. “And +then I saw an opportunity of burying my past. I trust it was not +dishonourable. The Italian officers of the steamer could speak very +little English, and as I was wearing the mate’s uniform cap they took +me to be an officer of the wrecked ship. I would not have told them a +falsehood, but I did not undeceive them. They took me to Bombay, and +they made me go to the American consul, but I escaped as soon as I +could, and concealed myself in the city for a couple of weeks. Then I +came on to Hongkong, where I hoped—” + +“Do you know just where the _Clara McClay_ was wrecked?” Elliott +demanded, trying to keep cool in the face of this revelation. + +“That is what that man asked me. It must have been off the northwest +coast of Madagascar.” + +“But don’t you know the exact spot?” + +“How could I? I was never out of my cabin till the night she struck.” + +Elliott burst into a bitter and uncontrollable roar of laughter. This, +then, was the end of the trail he had followed from the centre of the +United States at such expense and with such hopes. It ended in a man +with whom he had unsuspectingly lived for a month, an aged +ex-missionary of infirm moral habits. + +“That man who was here asked me the same thing,” repeated Laurie, +plaintively. “Why did he want to know where she struck—or why do you +want to know? My God! I had almost forgotten it!” he cried, +shuddering. “What shall I do? How can I save myself?” + +“What on earth do you mean?” cried Elliott. + +“He threatened me with disgrace—and arrest, unless I would tell him +where the ship went down. He said he would expose me to the British +Mission Board—and he would put all the proofs of—of more than that, of +other things, in the hands of my daughter. I deserve to be punished. I +can face even disgrace for myself—but not for her—not for my little +girl.” + +“No, she mustn’t hear of anything of the sort,” said Elliott. He +considered the situation for several minutes, walking to and fro. “Why +did you tell everybody that the ship went down in deep water?” he +asked. + +The missionary started. “How did you know that I did? It was a sudden +temptation. The consul in Bombay asked me if she foundered at sea, and +I said she did. It made no difference to any one, and it seemed safer. +You must remember the state I was in, after a week in an open boat +without water.” + +“Well, don’t worry,” said Elliott. “I dare say you didn’t mean any +harm, but that little remark of yours has cost a good deal of trouble +and a good many thousand dollars. But I’ll see that Sevier doesn’t +trouble you. I know him pretty well. I’m going to dine with him +to-night, in fact, and I’ll explain things to him.” + +Laurie brightened wonderfully at this assurance. During the past month +he had come to have an almost childlike trust in Elliott’s powers of +saving him from troubles, and at lunch he had almost recovered his +customary serene benignity. But Elliott was far from that placid state +of mind. The whole campaign would have to be altered. There was now no +hope of learning the location of the wreck from any of her survivors. +So far as he could see, there was only the chance of searching all +that portion of the channel till her bones were discovered, and it was +ten to one that the Arab coasters would have been before them. But at +any rate he could now meet Sevier without fear; he had no longer any +plan to conceal. + +He spent that afternoon in anxious thought, and finally wrote a long +letter to Henninger, detailing his adventures on the man-hunt that had +ended in a mare’s nest. As the letter might take over a month to reach +Zanzibar, he stopped at the cable office on his way to the Club, and +sent the following message: + +“Mate dead, taking secret with him. Shall I join you? Letter follows.” + +Sevier was waiting for him when he arrived at the Club’s massive +façade, and a table was already reserved in the farthest corner of the +dining-room. The air was heavy under the swinging punkahs, for it had +come on to rain again, and the drip and splash of the streets came +through the open windows. + +They discussed the soup in silence, and with the introduction of a +violently flavoured entrée they talked of the rain. + +“The weather’s no fit subject for conversation in this country,” +Sevier broke off all at once. “Look here, Elliott, you’re up against +it, aren’t you?” + +“I don’t know that I am, particularly,” answered the treasure-hunter, +coolly. “You’re in something of a blind alley yourself, I fancy.” + +“I don’t mind admitting that I am, for the moment. What do you know +about the _Clara McClay_?” + +“Nothing—except that she was wrecked.” + +“But you know what her cargo was?” + +“Yes, I do. Do you know where that cargo is now?” + +“No, I don’t. But she never sunk in deep water—I know that. She’s +ashore somewhere in the Mozambique Channel. Now I propose to you, +Elliott, that we join forces. You’re playing a lone hand, I reckon, +and it takes money to play a game like this. I have a partner with me, +and we’ve got $25,000 to spend. What do you say?” + +“I’d like to hear a little more,” said Elliott. + +“Well, I’ll play my cards face up. Look here. That gold was stolen +from the treasury at Pretoria by a gang of crooked Dutchmen. You may +know that. My partner, Carlton, was in Pretoria at the time, and he +got wind of it, and found out what ship it was going to be sent on. Do +you know what we did? We squared the ship’s mate, Burke, to pile the +old hooker up on the Afu Bata reef, off Mozambique. It cost us five +thousand cash to make the deal with him, and we had to promise him a +share of the plunder. Now do you see why we’re interested?” + +Elliott saw, and he saw furthermore that the affair was revealing +mazes of complexity that he had not suspected. + +“Yes,” he said, trying not to look surprised. “Then you must know +where she was wrecked, after all.” + +“No, because the mate threw us down—the thief! He took our money and +did us dirt. We hung around the Afu Bata reef in a dhow for three +weeks, off and on, and the _Clara McClay_ never showed up. At last we +put into Zanzibar, and found that she hadn’t been sighted anywhere +since she left Lorenzo Marques. A little later we heard that she had +been wrecked, and that the mate had been picked up, and that he had +said that she was sunk in deep water.” + +“But that wasn’t the mate at all,” Elliott remarked. + +“Yes, I know. I heard the story from that sanctimonious old hypocrite +on the Peak. But it was the mate that sunk her. It was Burke that ran +her ashore somewhere and figured to have all the plunder himself. It +wasn’t his fault that he got drowned or whatever happened to him. The +question now is—where is that wreck?” + +Elliott laughed. “Good Lord, that’s the question I’ve been trying to +solve for three months.” + +“There is one man that knows.” + +“Who is it?” + +“Your old sky-pilot” + +“You’re all wrong,” said Elliott. “Old Laurie, or Eaton, knows nothing +at all about the thing. And I should like to know how in the world you +came to take up his trail.” + +“The same as you did, I expect,” replied Sevier, winking. “We went +from Zanzibar up to Port Said, and waited there till we heard about +the mate being picked up and going to Bombay. I went there too, as you +know, having the honour to be your fellow passenger, but I never +suspected you of being interested in the wreck—not at first. + +“In Bombay I lost the trail, same as you did. But when I heard the +American consul describe his man I made sure it couldn’t be the real +mate. It was some fakir, and why should anybody fake the thing unless +he was up to some game. It made me keener than ever. Lord! I worked +like a slave in that accursed city. I searched every consulate, and +the hotels and the boarding-houses. I found that a man answering my +description had come to the Planters’ Hotel about the time the +counterfeit mate turned up. I found that he had gone—sailed for +Hongkong under a different name. I cabled Carlton, my partner, and we +came here. + +“It was you who helped us here. I spotted you on the street a week +ago, had you followed to the Peak, and there you were, living hand in +glove with my fakir. I went up there this morning, after learning that +you had gone out, and I put the question straight to the white-headed +old hypocrite. He went all to pieces, just as I expected, but he +wouldn’t tell me anything. However, we have a way to force him.” + +“Lost labour,” remarked Elliott, coolly. “He didn’t know even that the +_Clara McClay_ was loaded with gold.” + +“Don’t you believe it!” said Sevier, leaning impressively across the +table. “Elliott, that old parson is the slipperiest beggar between +Africa and Oregon. I know all about his doings in the past. As like as +not he murdered the mate himself—” + +Elliott gave an exclamation of derision. + +“Anyhow, I’m sure that he made up a plant with Burke to turn the trick +on us. He knows where that gold is now; you can bank on that! And if +you’ve been living with him for a month and don’t know too, you’re not +the clever man I take you to be.” + +“I think you’re just a little too clever yourself,” Elliott replied. +“I’ll play my cards face up, too. I know just as much as you do about +the location of that wreck, and that old missionary doesn’t know half +as much. You’ve sized up his character wrong. He’s merely a simple, +kind-hearted, unworldly old gentleman with no moral backbone. If he +knew where all that gold was, I don’t believe he’d go after it. He +might steal a hundred dollars if he saw it lying handy and happened to +need it, but he wouldn’t take any interest in a million that he +couldn’t see. As for his conspiring with Burke, much less killing him, +that’s sheer bosh. He doesn’t know where the _Clara McClay_ is, and I +don’t either.” + +“You’re too secretive for me,” said Sevier, looking downcast. “You +won’t mind if I say candidly that I think you’re bluffing. Don’t tell +me that you haven’t found out anything from that fellow Laurie, or +Eaton, as he calls himself. Something is preventing you from sailing +back to Africa and fishing up that million. I think we can supply what +is lacking to you. We need you; you need us. Then join us, and we’ll +work together.” + +“You are right,” Elliott agreed. “There is something that prevents me +from going there, and that is the fact that I don’t know where to go. +But I don’t mind admitting that I’m going to try to find out. I have +partners with me, too, and we have a little money to throw away.” + +“How many partners have you?” Sevier inquired. + +“Three.” + +“Well, bring them all in. We’ll share and share alike.” + +Elliott seriously considered this proposition for a couple of minutes. +But he knew that Henninger would accept no such arrangement. + +“I couldn’t make such a deal without consulting the other men,” he +said. “And I know that the chief of our gang would never stand for it. +He’s rather a whole hog or nothing man, and I’m a little that way +myself. No, I’m afraid we’ll have to work separately.” + +“Is that your final word?” + +“Absolutely.” + +“Well, I’m sorry. Excuse me a moment,” said Sevier, getting up +hastily. He went out of the dining-room, but returned almost +immediately. “I just then caught sight of a man I wanted to speak to,” +he explained. “Then I can’t induce you to go shares with us?” + +“I’m afraid not, thank you,” replied Elliott + +“It’s a fair race for a million, then, and let the best man win! But +it seems a fool business for us to cut one another’s throats. We’ve +made you the best proposals we can, but we feel that we have prior +rights on that cargo, and we’ll fight for it if necessary.” + +“We’ll try to meet you half-way,” said Elliott carelessly. “And isn’t +it absurd to talk of prior rights when the whole thing is little +better than a steal?” + +“A steal? Not a bit of it. The ship is sunk outside the three-mile +limit in neutral seas. It’s treasure-trove.” + +“I’ve been trying to look at it that way myself,” replied Elliott. +“But I fancy some government or other would claim it if they heard of +it It’s war, then, is it?” + +“That’ll come soon enough. Let’s have peace while we can,” Sevier +responded, poking at the roast beef, which lay a tepid and soggy mass +on his plate. “I must apologize to my guest. I’ve spoiled your dinner +for you. It’s stone cold—or as near it as anything ever gets in this +country. Let me order some more.” + +“No—don’t!” said Elliott, sickening at the thought of food in that +reeking atmosphere. “It’s too hot and wet to eat. This climate is +getting too much for me.” + +“Thinking of trying Africa? Look here, you come around to my place, +and I’ll mix you a cold drink, anyway. I found a plant the other day +that tastes like mint, and I’ll give you as close an imitation of a +Baltimore julep as can be had in China.” + +There were half a dozen palanquins waiting about the front of the Club +as usual, and Sevier gave the coolies an address which Elliott did not +catch. The bearers left Queen’s Road and turned up a street leading to +the mountain, which they ascended for several minutes, and finally +they stopped in the rain, which was now falling heavily. It was one of +the beautiful and shaded streets half-way up the slope, and they were +opposite a small bungalow that showed a glimmer of light through drawn +rattan shutters. + +“This is where Carlton and I have lived for the last fortnight,” said +Sevier, getting out. “We can’t afford residences on the Peak, like +you—and, Lord! how we have sizzled here!” + +He led the way to the door, which he opened with a latch-key, and +turned into a large sitting-room, lighted with an oil-lamp. The floor +was bare; the room was almost devoid of furniture, containing only a +couple of long chairs, a camp-chair, and a plain wooden table. On the +table was the remnants of a meal, with a couple of empty ale-bottles. +The windows were shut and closely covered with the blinds, and the air +of the room was intolerably hot and close. + +“Carlton’s been dining by himself to-night,” said Sevier, without +appearing to observe the heat. “He’ll be back in a few minutes, and +meanwhile we’ll have our drink.” + +He produced a bottle from an ice-box, and was crushing some ice, when +the door clicked open and shut again. A heavily built man appeared, +his white duck clothing hanging limply upon him. + +“How are you, old man!” said Sevier, glancing up. “Elliott, this is my +friend, Mr. Carlton. He knows all about you.” + +Carlton acknowledged the introduction by a nod and a searching glance. +He was a dark and heavy-faced man of perhaps forty, with a thick brown +moustache over lips that were small and close, and a small cold gray +eye. + +“Glad to meet you, Mr. Elliott. Yes, I’ve heard of you,” he remarked, +briefly. He sat down in the vacant cane chair and began to fill a +curved briar pipe, which he smoked with much apparent satisfaction. + +Sevier presently handed around three glasses crowned with the Chinese +herb that tasted like mint. The whole concoction did not taste much +like a Southern julep, but it was cooling. “Here’s luck for all of +us!” said Sevier, and they drank. + +There was a silence for a time, while the heat grew more and more +unbearable. + +“Why not have a window open?” Elliott inquired, at last. “Don’t you +find it hot here?” + +“No. Leave them closed,” said Carlton, brusquely. + +There was another long silence, while Carlton smoked imperturbably. +Elliott began to feel slightly nervous; he scarcely knew why. Every +one in the room seemed to be waiting for something. + +“Damn the rain!” Sevier suddenly ejaculated with irritation, and +Carlton rolled an admonishing eye upon him without speaking. Elliott +set down his empty glass and arose. + +“Have another drink,” urged Sevier. “Sit down.” + +“No, thank you. I must go,” Elliott began. + +“No. Sit down!” Carlton gruffly interrupted. + +Taken by surprise, Elliott sat down. The rain splashed on the veranda +in the silence. + +“But I really must go. I have to get to the Peak,” he said again, once +more getting up; but Sevier held up a warning hand. Outside was heard +the rhythmical grunt of sedan-coolies. There were steps on the +veranda. Sevier hurried to the door and opened it, and, to Elliott’s +amazement, the missionary appeared in the lamplight, his face +streaming with rain and perspiration, while he surveyed the group with +an air of apprehension which he endeavoured to cover with dignity. + + + + + CHAPTER XIII. FIRST BLOOD + + +“You sent for me, I think,—gentlemen—” hesitated Laurie, still +standing near the doorway. + +Sevier bustled forward, led him in and closed the door. “Yes, yes, +certainly. It was mighty good of you to come. Your friend is here +already, you see.” + +“I didn’t send for you. What did you come here for?” demanded Elliott, +his mind becoming clouded with suspicions. + +“It was this gentleman,” said the missionary, indicating Carlton with +evident distrust. “He ordered me to come here—in terms that I could +not well refuse. What do you want me to do?” + +“Very little, and nothing hard,” Sevier answered, brightly. He brought +another chair from an adjoining room, and placed it beside the table. +“Sit down. Will you have a drink? No? Well, we merely want you to tell +us what you know of the wreck of the _Clara McClay_.” + +Laurie was trembling visibly. “I told you this morning what I know. Do +you want me to go over it again?” + +“Oh, no. Not that. We want to know where the wreck lies.” + +“I told you that I know no more about it than you do,” protested the +missionary. “How could I, when I was always in my cabin till she +struck, and then adrift in an open boat for a week?” + +“That won’t do!” broke in Carlton, stonily. “Out with it!” + +“My dear sir, don’t be unreasonable,” Laurie pleaded. “How can I tell +you things I know nothing of?” + +Carlton looked at him for a moment, and then turned with a nod to +Sevier. The young Alabaman produced a long, heavy strap from under the +table, and with a movement of incredible celerity he dropped the loop +over Laurie’s head and shoulders. In another second he was buckled +fast to the back of his chair, before he had comprehended that +anything was happening. He gave a shrill cry of alarm as the strap +drew tight, however, and Elliott jumped to his feet. + +“What do you mean?” he cried. “This is an outrage! Set that man loose +instantly.” + +He stepped forward to release the strap himself, but Carlton met him. +“Don’t be a fool, Elliott,” advised the big man. “Ah! there now, you +will have it!” + +Elliott had tried to strike, but Carlton gripped him by the wrists +like a vise. There was a brief tussle, while the missionary wriggled +in the chair, but he could not free himself from that steel grasp. + +“See if he’s armed, Sevier,” advised Carlton, coolly, and the Alabaman +ran his hands over Elliott’s captive person. There were no weapons. + +“We don’t want to hurt you, Elliott,” said Sevier, “but I’m afraid +we’ll have to strap you up likewise to keep you from hurting yourself. +Don’t be frightened. There isn’t going to be any bloodshed, but we’ve +got to get the story out of that old fakir by hook or crook.” + +Another noose dropped over Elliott’s head, pinioning his arms to his +sides. He kicked Carlton on the shins, and fell with the recoil, and +before he could regain his feet Carlton was sitting on his chest and +Sevier was binding his ankles together. They placed him in a sitting +posture against the wall, helpless as a sack. + +“It’s so hot that it would be cruel to gag you,” added Sevier, +considerately, “but if you yell we’ll have to stuff a handkerchief +into your mouth.” + +“Yes, keep your mouth shut,” advised Carlton. “Get the battery, +Sevier.” + +Sevier went into the next room and returned with a box of polished +wood, about a foot in diameter, which he placed upon the table. In +three more journeys he brought out the six large glass cells of an +electric battery, and proceeded to twist their wires together, +connecting the terminals with the wooden box. + +Elliott, breathless with rage, struggling, and heat, watched these +preparations from where he sat, and understood them. The missionary +was to be tortured with the current from a strong induction coil. +There was some relief in this knowledge, for, he thought, the effects +of the current might be unpleasant, but certainly would not be +dangerous, not even exactly painful. + +Laurie struggled violently when they came to tie his elbows to the +arms of the chair, but he was easily overpowered. The ends of the +insulated wires terminated in brass strips, and they bound these upon +the under side of his wrists. + +“All right,” said Carlton, calmly. “Turn it on.” + +A rapid buzzing arose from the box, and the missionary’s body was +agitated by a strong spasm. His shoulders heaved stiffly, and his +whole body strained tensely against the strap across his chest till +the leather creaked. But he kept his teeth tight shut. + +If the induction coil had been known to the judicial torturers of the +middle ages it would certainly have been the favourite method of +applying “the question.” Its peculiarity is that without injuring the +tissues to the slightest degree, it racks the nerves, breaks down the +will, and lacerates the soul itself. But still Laurie remained silent. +Under this direct attack he had evidently summoned up the courage that +had made him one of the most intrepid of the pioneers of the Cross in +heathendom. Sevier shut off the current. + +“Are you ready to tell us now?” demanded the adventurer. + +“No,” said the missionary, between his teeth. + +Elliott admired the old man’s determination, and wondered. He realized +that he had not yet seen all the sides of Laurie’s peculiar +personality. He tried hard to free himself without being observed, and +lacerated his wrists, but could not get a shade of purchase on his +bonds. + +“A peg stronger this time,” advised Carlton, relighting his pipe. + +The contact-breaker buzzed again, and Laurie strained against the +strap. His face became livid; the perspiration streamed down his +cheeks, and his blue eyes were set in an anguished glare. His whole +body twitched frightfully under his bonds, and his heels drummed upon +the floor. Elliott looked on in impotent horror. + +“Oh, here! I can’t stand this!” said Sevier, averting his eyes. + +“Shut off. Now will you talk?” said Carlton. + +Laurie made no answer, but lay heavily back, his muscles still +twitching. They waited; he gasped spasmodically, but did not speak. + +“Again—and a little more current,” commanded Carlton, and Sevier +obeyed with a look of disgust. Laurie’s form was torn by a terrible +convulsion. His mouth opened and shut, and an inarticulate cry came +from his lips. The coil buzzed for almost two minutes. + +“Give him a moment,” Carlton said, without emotion. “Now will you tell +us? Very well; turn it on again, Sevier.” + +“No! no!” gasped the missionary. “I will—tell—you—” + +“Good. Speak up.” + +Laurie lay back and breathed heavily, and with great gulps. He +trembled violently in every muscle, but came slowly back to +self-control. + +“Are you going to tell us?” Carlton repeated. + +“No! Not a word!” the missionary exclaimed, with nervous violence. + +Carlton frowned. “Give him the full strength,” he said, curtly. + +The full strength was applied, and Laurie’s body stiffened +convulsively under its force. To Elliott it seemed that the torture +lasted for hours, listening to the vicious buzz of the coil and +watching the writhing, white-clad form lashed in the long chair. He +struggled in vain to get loose; he shut his eyes, but he could hear +the creaking of the strap as Laurie’s body strained against it; and at +last he heard the missionary utter a stifled, choking sob—“Ah—ah—ah!” + +The noise of the instrument ceased. “Now will you be sensible?” +Carlton inquired. + +“Yes! yes! No more, for God’s sake!” Laurie moaned, and began to cry +with profuse tears. + +“Here, have a drink,” said Sevier. + +He held a full glass to the old man’s lips, and he drank half a pint +of whiskey and water eagerly. + +“Where is it, then? What’s the latitude and longitude?” Carlton +insisted, eagerly. But Laurie had sunk back and closed his eyes. + +“Give him time. He’s worn out with your devilish machine. Cut him +loose if you want him to talk,” advised Elliott from the floor. + +“Hello, I’d forgotten you, old man,” said Sevier. “Keep cool. It’s all +over, and we’ll turn you loose, too, in a minute.” + +He took Elliott’s advice, however, and removed the strap. Then he +stirred the missionary gently, without effect. + +“Why, the man’s asleep!” he exclaimed, bending over him in +astonishment. + +Laurie had, in fact, fallen instantly into a deep stupor. Carlton +soaked a handkerchief in ice-water and applied it to his neck, and the +old man revived. + +“Give us the address, or you’ll get another dose of the juice,” he +commanded. + +The missionary winked, and seemed to gather himself together. He stood +up shakily, his muscles still quivering. + +“It’s Ibo Island, south of the Lazarus Bank,” he said. “It’s latitude +south twelve, forty, thirty-seven; longitude thirty-one, eleven, +twenty.” + +Sevier noted the figures on a scrap of paper. Elliott was amazed at +the statement. Had Laurie really known all along? Or was it simply an +imaginary address given to save himself from further torture? + +“We’ll go there at once,” said Carlton, “and we’ll take you with us. +If the stuff’s there, well and good, and we’ll do the handsome thing +by you. If it’s not there, we’ve got proof of crooked work against you +enough to send you down for ten years’ hard labour, and we’ll hand you +over to the English police. Be sure of your figures, if you don’t want +to die in prison and have your daughter disgraced.” + +Laurie swayed back as if he had received a blow in the face. He stared +for one instant at the dark, merciless countenance of the speaker, and +suddenly caught up one of the empty beer-bottles from the table and +hurled it. Carlton would have been brained if he had not ducked +actively, and the missile smashed on the opposite wall. + +Laurie instantly seized the other bottle, and charged with a bellow of +animal fury, brandishing it as a club. The attack was so astoundingly +unexpected that Sevier stood stone-still. + +“Keep off!” cried Carlton, dodging round the table. He picked up a +long carving-knife from among the supper cutlery, and presented the +point like a bayonet. “Keep off!” he commanded again. “You fool! I’ll +kill you!” + +But Laurie lurched blindly forward, paying no heed. He seemed to +thrust himself upon the blade. The breast of his white clothes +reddened vividly. He dropped the bottle, stood trembling and rocking +for an instant, and fell with a crash upon his back. The knife stood +half-buried between his ribs. He quivered a little and lay still. + +There was an appalled silence. Every man held his breath, gazing at +the prostrate white figure. No one had been prepared for this. + +“I never meant to do it!” murmured Carlton, in an awestruck whisper. +“He ran on the blade.” + +“See if he’s dead,” said Elliott, feeling very sick. Sevier knelt +beside the body and lifted a wrist. + +“He’s done for, I’m afraid,” he said, turning a pale face back to +them. + +“Here, let me up,” Elliott demanded. “Let me see him.” + +They cut him loose, and Elliott examined the body. The missionary’s +work was done. He was dead; the knife must have touched the heart. + +“This is a bad business for us all,” muttered Sevier. “What’ll we do +with him?” + +“Whatever possessed him to break out like that? It was self-defence. +He ran right on the point,” Carlton said, still half under his breath. + +“Yes; but how’ll we prove it?” Sevier rejoined. + +Elliott said nothing. He looked at the dead man, at the crimson stain +that was spreading over the whole coat-front, and tried to avoid +thinking of Margaret. How could he tell her? Of what could he tell +her—for he would have to tell her something. + +Sevier poured out half a glass of whiskey and drank it neat. He stood +apparently pondering for a few minutes, while all three men stood +gazing with strange fascination at the corpse, which regarded the +ceiling imperturbably. + +“You look sick, Elliott. Take some whiskey,” he suddenly remarked. +“Wait, I’ll get another glass.” + +He went into the adjoining room for it, and Elliott swallowed the +liquor without seeing it, almost without tasting it. He had hardly +drunk it when he felt a violent sickness, and sat down. The room +seemed to swim and grow faint before his eyes. + +“She mustn’t know,” he heard himself murmuring. “I can’t tell her.” + +A numb paralysis was creeping over him. He dropped his head on the +table beside the battery, and gold, love, and murder faded into +blackness. + +Years of oblivion seemed to pass over his head. He awoke at intervals +to a sense of violent struggles, nightmares of blood and death, and a +pervading, terrible nausea. Then new cycles of darkness swept down, +interrupted by new dreams of agony. + +He came to himself slowly, aching and sick. He was in bed, and he was +being rocked gently to and fro. The room was small, with the ceiling +close above his head. Light came in through a small round window, and +a perpetual vibration jarred the whole place. + +As his head slowly cleared, he comprehended that he must be in the +stateroom of a steamer, and he imagined indistinctly that he was at +sea, and on his way to Hongkong in pursuit of the mate. But there was +a dull sense of catastrophe at the back of his head, and all at once +he remembered. He had been at Hongkong; he had found Margaret—and the +missionary, and the whole tragedy came back to him. What had happened +after that? He could remember nothing, and he threw himself out of the +lower berth in which he was reposing, and looked through the port +light. There was nothing but ocean to be seen. + +His hand went instinctively to his waist. Thank heaven! his money-belt +was still there, buckled next his body, and he could feel the hard, +round sovereigns through the buckskin. His clothes lay on the sofa. He +hurried into them, omitting the collar, tie, and shoes, and rushed +from the room, with his hair wildly dishevelled. + +His room was close to the foot of the stairway, and he dashed up. He +found himself on the deck of a great steamship, among dozens of +well-dressed passengers who stared at him strangely. A fresh wind was +blowing from a cloudy sky; the decks were wet; the ship rolled freely. +Far astern there was a dark haze on the horizon, but elsewhere nothing +but open water. + +“For God’s sake, where am I? What ship’s this?” demanded Elliott +distractedly from the nearest passenger. + +“What’s the matter? Been seasick?” answered the man, who was lounging +against the rail and smoking a pipe. He looked Elliott over with +evident amusement. + +But Elliott at that moment caught sight of a life buoy lashed upon the +deckhouse. It answered his question; it bore the black lettering: + + “S. S. PERU. SAN FRANCISCO.” + +He tried to collect his still scattered wits, and wondered if he had +boarded that ship while delirious. + +“I have been very sick,” he said to his interlocutor. “I was sick +before I came aboard, and I’d even forgotten where I was. What time +did we sail?” + +“At daylight this morning.” + +“For San Francisco?” + +“Of course. You must have been pretty bad. Has the ship’s doctor seen +you?” + +“I don’t know,” said Elliott, weakly; and he was all at once seized +with another fit of sickness and leaned over the rail, vomiting. When +he had recovered a little he clung limply to a stanchion. He must get +off this ship in some way; he must get back at once to Hongkong, where +Margaret was left helpless. + +“Have we dropped the pilot yet?” he asked of the passenger, who was +looking on with the amused sympathy which is the best that seasickness +can elicit. + +“Dropped him three hours ago.” + +There was not a minute to lose. Elliott hurried down-stairs again in +search of the purser’s office, and burst in unceremoniously. + +“What’s this?” he exclaimed. “How do I come on this ship? I didn’t +take passage on her. I’ve got no ticket. I must go back to Hongkong.” + +“What the devil did you come aboard for, then?” inquired the purser, +not unnaturally. + +“I don’t know how I got aboard. I woke up just now sick in my berth.” + +“You couldn’t have got a berth without a ticket. Say, you’ve been +seasick, haven’t you? Hasn’t it knocked out your memory a little? See +if you haven’t got a ticket about you somewhere. They haven’t been +taken up yet.” + +“Certainly I haven’t!” Elliott protested, but he felt through his +pockets. In the breast of his coat he came upon a large folded yellow +document which, to his utter amazement, proved really to be a ticket +from Victoria to San Francisco, in the name of Wingate Elliott. + +“I never bought this. I never saw it before!” he cried. + +“Let’s see it,” said the purser. “Second cabin. It seems all correct.” +He rang a bell. “Ask the chief steward to come here a moment,” he said +to the Chinese boy who responded. + +“Anyhow,” Elliott insisted, “I’ve got to get off this ship and back to +Hongkong, as quick as I can. Don’t you call at Yokohama?” + +“We don’t stop anywhere this side of San Francisco.” + +The chief steward came in at this moment, and looked at Elliott with a +smile of recognition. “Good morning. Feel better, sir?” he inquired. + +“This gentleman doesn’t know how he got on board,” said the purser. +“His ticket’s all right. Did you see him when he came on?” + +“Sure I did,” responded the steward, cheerfully. “I helped to get him +to his stateroom. He came aboard last night about eleven o’clock, with +a couple of his friends holding him up. You sure had been having a +swell time, sir,—no offence. They’d been giving you a little send-off +dinner at the Hongkong Club, don’t you remember? The gentlemanly dark +young fellow explained it to me, and asked me to have the doctor look +in on you when you woke up. How do you feel, sir?” + +“Can you tell me when this ticket was bought?” Elliott asked. + +The purser looked at it again. “Bought last night. It must have been +the last ticket sold for this ship. You were lucky to get passage so +late.” + +“Shanghaied, by God!” cried Elliott. “Drugged and kidnapped! I’ve got +to see the captain. Somebody’ll settle with me for this!” + +“You’d better take time to put on a collar and shoes,” the purser +advised. “A minute more won’t matter. The captain can’t help you, I’m +afraid.” + +So it appeared. The commander of the _Peru_ listened sympathetically +to what Elliott thought advisable to tell him, but offered no prospect +of assistance. + +“I don’t see what we can do for you, Mr.—er—Ellis. We don’t stop +anywhere, and you can’t expect me to put back to Hongkong.” + +“Couldn’t you transfer me to a west-bound ship if we should meet one?” + +“I’m afraid not. We carry the mails, and we’re under contract not to +slow down for anything but to save life. I take it that this isn’t a +question of saving life.” + +“No, but it’s a question of millions. Good heavens! I stand to lose +enough to buy this ship three times over.” + +“That may be, but I’m afraid I can’t act on it. Cheer up. Things will +turn out better than you think. You’ll find the _Peru_ a pleasant +place for a vacation.” + +“Is there any way for me to send a message back to Victoria?” + +“Not that I know. Or, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. If we run close +enough to anything bound for Hongkong to signal her, I’ll give you a +chance to throw a bottle overboard with a letter in it. That’s the +best I can do for you, and I can’t slow down to do that.” + +Elliott chafed with wrath as he left the cabin of the captain, who +regarded him with an interest that was obviously unmixed with much +credulity. And yet he was obliged to admit that his story was +incredible on the face of it, and not helped out by his own haggard +and incoherent manner. + +He sat down beside the rail, still feeling weak and ill, and yet too +angry to care how he felt. Carlton and Sevier had played him a clever +trick, almost a stroke of genius. They had put him comfortably out of +the way for three weeks, to be landed on the other side of the world, +while they sailed away to recover the wrecked treasure, and to escape +the investigation when the missionary’s murder should be discovered. +With a start of from three weeks to a month they could reasonably hope +to have time to plunder the _Clara McClay_ without interruption. + +Still, as Elliott grew cooler, he could not attach much importance to +the directions given by Laurie. He still felt convinced that the +missionary had known no more than himself. He had made a false +confession under the strain of the torture, and his desperation at the +prospect of going to the Mozambique Channel clearly indicated its +falsity. + +But it was of Margaret that he thought, and his heart was wrung. He +pictured her waiting all night for her father’s return and for +himself. Perhaps she was waiting still, in such an agony of alarm as +he dared not imagine, while the body of the missionary was probably +floating in the harbour at the foot of the Chinese city. She had no +money. She knew no one in Victoria. + +Elliott jumped up and paced the deck feverishly. Surely something +could be done. China was almost out of sight in the southwest, and he +would have given his left hand to have been able to reach that bluish +line that was falling away at fifteen knots an hour. And yet, what +could he do? He was at sea for almost three weeks. + +There was the hope that he might be able to send a message back to +Victoria, and he went to the saloon at once to write it, in case an +opportunity should present itself. But it was hard to decide what to +say. He did not know whether she had learned of her father’s death, +but judged it unlikely. Carlton and Sevier must have disposed of the +body so that it would not be found for some time. But above all +things, Margaret must leave Victoria at once. + + “Your father is seriously ill,” he wrote at last. “He is + with me. We got aboard this ship by a mistake which I will + explain when I see you, and we are bound for San + Francisco. You must follow us at once. Take the next + steamer. If you will call on the American consul and give + him the enclosure, he will arrange for your passage. Don’t + delay a day. + + “Wingate Elliott. + + “On board S. S. _Peru_.” + +With the letter he enclosed a note to the American consul begging him +to furnish Miss Laurie with such money as she might require, and +enclosing a promissory note for a hundred dollars. He then obtained an +empty beer-bottle from the smoking-room steward and corked up this +correspondence tightly, along with a sovereign to reward the finders. + +The opportunity came late that afternoon. The _Peru_ passed a British +three-master booming down a fair wind toward the China coast, and the +captain was as good as his word. After an exchange of signals, the +Britisher lowered a boat, and the _Peru_ even deviated a little from +her course to approach it. Elliott cut a life-buoy from the rigging, +tied his bottle fast to it and cast it overboard. + +The big liner tore past the boat like a locomotive, tossing it high on +the wash of her passage. Elliott had not before realized her speed. He +ran to the stern, and saw the boatmen fish the precious float from the +water. + +“You’ll have to pay for that life-belt, you know,” said the second +officer, at his shoulder. “You wouldn’t have got it if I’d seen you in +time.” + +Elliott had to pay for more than the life-belt. He had nothing with +him but the clothes he stood in, and he was obliged to purchase a +clean shirt, fresh collars, handkerchiefs,—a dozen small +articles,—from the stewards, paying sea prices, which differ from land +prices according to the needs of the purchaser. Elliott’s need was +great, and he felt almost grateful to his kidnappers for having left +him his money-belt. He felt certain that it was to Sevier that he owed +that. + +He was seasick most of the time during the first four days of the +voyage, for the first time in his life—the result, he supposed, of the +potent drug that Sevier had administered. After that, he rallied, and +began to be conscious of the bracing effect of the cool ocean breezes +after hot Hongkong. But never did a voyage pass so slowly. He had been +impatient in going to Bombay; he had fretted between Bombay and +Hongkong, but now he walked the deck almost incessantly, and was +always the first to look at the daily record of the ship’s run posted +at noon in the saloon. He had never sailed the Pacific before, nor +imagined that it was so wide. + + + + + CHAPTER XIV. THE CLUE FOUND + + +But twenty days cannot stretch to infinity, even at sea. The _Peru_ +entered the Golden Gate early in the forenoon on the 9th of August, +and Elliott, having no baggage to worry him, hurried at once to the +offices of the Eastern Mail Steamship Company. + +He waited anxiously while a youthful clerk flipped over the letters +and telegrams in the rack, but English honesty was vindicated. There +were two brown cable messages for him, and he ripped them open +nervously. The first was from Henninger. It had been forwarded from +Hongkong, and read: + +“Will search. Come Zanzibar immediately.” + +This was not what he wanted, but the second proved to be from +Margaret, saying: + +“Sailing twenty-eighth, steamer _Imperial_.” + +Elliott felt as if a mighty weight had been heaved off his breast. +Margaret must be then at sea, but her passage would be longer than his +own. The ships of the Imperial line called at Yokohama and Honolulu, +and on investigation he learned that the steamer _Imperial_ was not +due at San Francisco until the last day of August. He had nearly three +weeks to wait, but of course he would wait for her. The treasure was a +secondary issue just then, and then the question arose of how he was +to meet her with the word of her father’s death. + +For the actual fact he could feel but little regret. Laurie was not a +man for this world; he was too high, or too low, as one pleased to +regard it; and as a guardian for his daughter he was totally +worthless. Sooner or later open disgrace was certain, and the grief +would have been worse to Margaret than her father’s death. It was +better that he had died when he did, with his halo untarnished—to his +daughter’s eyes at least. + +Elliott spent the next days in feverish unrest. He had nothing to do, +and could not have done it if he had, and he half-longed for +Margaret’s coming and half-dreaded it. He would have to tell her the +whole story of the treasure and of the murder. How would she receive +it? And would it, or would it not be taking an unfair advantage of her +helplessness to tell her that he loved her and wished nothing so much +as to protect her for the rest of her life? + +He was rapidly becoming worn out by these plans, doubts, and problems, +and half-poisoned with the number of secrets and difficulties which he +had to keep locked up in his own breast, when a sudden recollection +came to him with relief. Bennett was in the city. + +Or, at least, he should be here. According to the arrangement he was +to go to San Francisco as soon as he could leave the hospital in St. +Louis, and surely his broken bones must have mended long ago. He was +to have wired his address to Henninger, and probably he had done so, +but Henninger was far away, and the fact would not help Elliott to +find his former travelling companion. + +He dropped a note to Bennett, however, in the city general delivery, +and also wrote to him in care of the hospital, on the chance that the +letter would be forwarded. Two days passed; it was evident that the +former letter had not reached him, and it would be necessary to wait +till an answer could arrive from St. Louis. + +Elliott waited, feeling that he had merely added another uncertainty +to his already plentiful store of them. He waited for ten days, and +then as he entered the lobby of his hotel he saw a man leaning over +the desk to speak to the clerk, and his back looked somehow familiar. + +Elliott stepped up to the man, and touched his shoulder. + +“Bennett! Is this you?” + +The man turned with a start. It was indeed the adventurer, but dressed +in a style indicating almost unrecognizable prosperity. He stared at +Elliott for a moment, and then gripped him with both hands, emitting +an explosively inarticulate ejaculation. + +“By thunder!” he cried. “I couldn’t place you. I never saw you in a +boiled shirt before. Let’s get out of this. I never was so glad to see +a man in my life.” + +He stepped out of the line and they left the hotel. As soon as they +were in the street he clutched Elliott’s arm. + +“Have you got it?” he demanded, under his breath. + +Elliott laughed a little wearily. “No, we haven’t got it. I’ve given +up thinking that we ever will, though Henninger has just wired me that +he’s going to search the whole Mozambique Channel.” + +“Isn’t Henninger with you?” + +“No, he’s in Zanzibar, and the other fellows are strung out all along +the East Africa coast. It’s a long story, and there’s not much comfort +in it, but let’s go over to the park and I’ll tell you.” + +“Start it as we walk along. Man, I’ve been hungering and thirsting for +some news from that job.” + +So on the street Elliott began the story, of the great game in +Nashville that had financed the expedition, of the voyages of the +party, and of his own adventures on the train in Bombay and Hongkong. +He finished it on a park bench, with the killing of the missionary, +and the high-class form of “shanghaing,” of which he had himself been +the victim. Of Margaret he judged it best to say nothing. + +Bennett listened feverishly, interrupting the story with impatient +questions. When Elliott had finished he sat in meditation for a couple +of minutes. + +“Henninger is right,” he pronounced at last. “The only thing now is to +search the channel. Are you sure the address your old missionary gave +was a fake?” + +“I can’t believe it was anything else. Why else would he have risked +killing rather than have it tested?” + +“It looks so. His directions must have been somewhere near the right +spot, though; I’ve been looking at maps. Anyhow, I’ll know the island +again when I see it.” + +“The wreck will mark it, won’t it?” + +“The wreck has probably broken up and sunk out of sight by this time. +That’s a point in our favour, for the worst danger is from the coast +traders and Arab riffraff. Let’s start right away for Zanzibar, by the +next steamer.” + +“I can’t leave for a week or so,” Elliott confessed, and he explained +his reasons for delay. + +“I don’t like any women in this thing. This is strictly a man’s game,” +commented Bennett. + +“Oh, Miss Laurie won’t be in it. But I wired her to come here, and +I’ve got to meet her. Why, she thinks her father is alive and here +with me.” + +“Yes, I suppose you’ve got to wait,” said Bennett, and was silent for +several seconds. “But, damn it! this is awful!” he exploded, suddenly. +“Every minute counts. Henninger’ll be waiting for us. That other gang +must be half-way there by now, and when they don’t find the wreck on +Ibo Island they’ll look somewhere else. They’ve got three weeks’ start +of us, with ten thousand miles less to go.” + +“They won’t find anything,” Elliott attempted, soothingly. + +“How do you know they won’t? They’ve got as good a chance as we, +haven’t they? Better, by thunder! Besides, there are all sorts of Arab +and Berber craft sailing up and down the channel. It seems to me +you’ve done nothing all through but waste time.” + +“If you’re not satisfied with my ways, you’d better go and join +Henninger by yourself,” said Elliott, growing irritated. “You can +count me out of it. I’m staying here for the present.” + +Bennett looked for a moment as if inclined to take Elliott at his +word, and then his face relaxed and he began to laugh. + +“Don’t be an idiot, you old jay!” he exclaimed, finally. “Of course +I’ll wait for you. You waited for me in St. Louis, didn’t you? +Only—well, I’ve been waiting now for four months, and it’s getting on +my nerves.” + +“Have you been here all that time?” + +“Oh, no. The first month I spent in the hospital, where you had the +pleasure of seeing me wrapped in splints. But as soon as I got out I +made a bee-line for the Pacific coast. I left a forwarding address at +the hospital, and I expected to have you fellows wire me. I’ve written +to every point I could think of to catch some of you.” + +“Got any money?” + +“You bet I have. I got—what do you think?—eight hundred dollars out of +the railroad for my wounds and bruises. I asked for two thousand and +got eight hundred. I had to give half of it to my lawyer, though,” he +added, regretfully. “Then, a couple of weeks ago, a fellow put me on +to a good thing at the race-track out here. It was at five to one. I +plunged a hundred on it, and she staggered home by a nose. He’s going +to give me another good tip on Saturday—get-away day, you know, and a +long shot.” + +“Don’t you touch it,” said Elliott. “We’ll need all your spare cash. +I’ve got none too much myself, and we’ve got a long way to go.” + +The prospect of all the weary miles of sea and land that he must still +travel on the treasure hunt, in fact, had come to oppress him. He had +already all but encircled the globe, and he sickened at the thought of +another month-long voyage. He was tired, mortally tired, of stewards, +and saloon tables, and smoking-rooms, and he told himself that if he +ever found himself once more in some silent, sunshiny American village +he would contentedly vegetate there like a plant for the rest of his +days. + +But before that he would have to think of how to meet Margaret, who +would be there in a week, and of some words to prepare her for the +final explanation. This week passed as swiftly as the two first had +slowly. He spent it in lounging about uneasily, and in long +conferences with Bennett, and on the afternoon of the twenty-ninth he +heard that the _Imperial_ had been sighted. She was, in fact, then +entering the harbour. + +But he was still without a speech prepared when the gangplank was +opened, and the flood of passengers began to pour down. He saw +Margaret, and waved his hand, but even from a distance he was shocked +at her pallor, and startled by the fact that she was wearing complete +black. He waited for her outside the customs enclosure. + +“You see I’ve come. I hoped you would meet me,” she said. + +“Of course I would meet you,” he protested, unsteadily, dreading the +expected inquiry for her father. On a nearer view her face was even +more drawn and haggard than he had thought; she looked as if she had +not slept for a week, but she had met him with a brave smile. + +“I know all about it,” she added. + +“All? What?” stammered Elliott. + +“Everything. They found my father’s body the day after I got your +letter. It was in an empty house. I saw him buried in Happy Valley.” + +“Margaret, I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t dare—” + +“Oh, yes, I know; it was kind of you. And oh! I was so glad to get +away from that awful city. But for your letter I think I should have +died. I thought at first that you had deserted us, and I was all +alone. That night of waiting—can I ever forget it! The consul and his +wife were very kind—but I was all alone.” Her voice was choking, and +she was trying hard to keep the sobs down. + +“Don’t cry, for heaven’s sake,—dear,” said Elliott, in deep trouble. +“The worst is over now. I’ll see that everything is right. Just depend +on me.” + +“I suppose the worst is over,” she said, drying her eyes. “But I feel +as if it were only beginning. How can I live? My whole life feels at +an end, somehow. But I will try to be strong. I was brave in Hongkong, +when I had everything to do—but now. Never mind, I will be brave +again, as my poor father was, and as he would want me to be.” + +“That’s right. Here’s your hotel. There’s a good room engaged for you, +and you’ll find they’ll make you very comfortable. Ask for everything +you want,” said Elliott. + +“You must tell me first all you know about father’s death.” + +Elliott shuddered. “Not to-day. You’re tired out; you must be. I’ll +tell you to-morrow.” + +“No. Now—at once,” she said, impatiently. “I can’t sleep till I know +it all. Then I’ll never ask you to speak of it again.” + +Elliott, thus cornered, told her somewhat baldly the story of how the +missionary had been decoyed to the house on the slope of the mountain, +and how he had met his death. He touched lightly on the torture, and +said nothing of the treasure. The latter was too long a story. + +“They stabbed him because he would not tell them something that they +believed he knew. In reality he knew nothing of it. I think it was +really by accident that he was wounded. I do not believe that they +intended to do more than frighten him.” + +“And you saw it all?” + +“I was lying tied hand and foot on the floor. They drugged me +afterward and put me on a ship for San Francisco.” + +“What was it that they wanted him to tell them?” + +“It was a business matter,” Elliott said, hastily. “Something that he +knew nothing about, but they thought he did. I don’t quite understand +the details of it myself.” + +He had feared a terrible scene, but Margaret took the story +courageously. + +“What became of the—the murderers?” she asked, after a silence. + +“I have no idea. Did you hear of any one being arrested?” + +“No. There was an inquest—but no one arrested, at least before I +left.” She was twisting her handkerchief into shreds between her +fingers. “Thank you,” she said, suddenly, trying to smile again. “It +was kind of you to tell me. You have been so good to me! Now—now, +please go!” + +Elliott fled from the hotel, immeasurably relieved that it was over. +The next day, he said to himself, he would send her back to her aunt +in Nebraska, where she would probably wish to go, and he himself would +sail with Bennett for Africa. When he returned it would be with his +share of the great treasure. He felt the need of it now; he wanted it +more than ever—not for his own sake, but for Margaret’s. + +Next morning, when he called on Margaret, she made no reference to her +father. She was very pale and evidently dispirited, and he took her +out driving. She attempted to talk on casual topics, but with +indifferent success, and she did not speak of leaving San Francisco. + +It was the same on the next day, and the next. Margaret no longer +cared either to drive or to walk. She received Elliott in her +sitting-room at the hotel when he came to see her. She was listless, +languid, paler than ever. As she was, in a manner, his guest, he could +not well suggest to her that she return to Lincoln, but he saw clearly +that she would be ill unless she were given a change of scene, and +something to divert her mind. San Francisco still was too suggestive +of Hongkong, and he noticed that she shrunk painfully from the sight +of a Chinaman. She must leave the city, he thought; but perhaps she +did not have even enough money for her ticket to Lincoln. + +After long pondering, he broached the matter on the fourth day. + +“If you’d like to go back to your aunt at Lincoln, Margaret,” he said, +“I know a fellow here in the Union Pacific office, and I can get you +transportation without its costing you a cent.” + +“Don’t you know?” she answered. “My aunt is dead. She died shortly +after you left Lincoln. She was caught out in that storm that found us +at Salt Lake—do you remember it?—and took cold, and died of pneumonia. +I have no one in the world now. That was the chief reason why I went +to Hongkong.” + +“No, you never told me that,” said Elliott, startled, and worried. He +would have liked to say what he felt that, under the circumstances, he +had no right to say; he had trouble to restrain it; he wanted to +relieve her at once from all her material troubles. + +“And this brings me to what I should have said long ago,” she went on. +“I am—it’s humiliating to confess it—but I have no money. All I had I +spent in Hongkong. I want to get work here. I’m strong; I can do +anything. Have you any idea where I could try?” + +Elliott started with horror; the confession wrenched his heart. But it +occurred to him that he could subsidize some one to take music lessons +from her. + +“Why, yes,” he said. “I’m glad you spoke of it. I know one girl here, +at least, who wants music lessons. She’ll pay well for them, too—four +or five dollars an hour.” + +“Oh!” gasped Margaret. “Do they pay such prices in California? But +they will want something extraordinary.” + +“No, you’ll do splendidly,” Elliott assured her. “Then I have to go +away myself,—on that hunt for the easy millions I spoke of in +Hongkong.” + +“And you never told me just what it was,” said Margaret. “But, before +you go, I want you to tell me just what it was that those men wanted +my father to tell them.” + +Elliott reflected. “Yes, I might as well tell you,” he said, slowly. +“It is mixed up with my own venture, too. I cut the story short the +other day, for fear of hurting you too much.” And for the third time +Elliott told the story of the wrecked gold-ship, and of his own +efforts in the chase. + +“They killed him because he would not tell where the wreck was?” she +soliloquized, when he had finished. + +“He could not tell them what he knew nothing of.” + +“But my father did know where that ship was wrecked,” she said, +looking him full in the face. + +“What? Impossible!” cried Elliott, staggered. + +“He knew where it was wrecked. That man who was in the boat with +him—the mate—told him before he died, and gave him the exact position, +with the latitude and longitude. My father told me of it. He had +planned to go there sometime and see if anything could be recovered +from the wreck. I found the map, with the place marked, among his +papers. But he thought that no one else knew of it.” + +Elliott, still half-dazed, reflected that the missionary had not +ceased to astonish him, even after death. + +“He intended to give you a share of it. Do you remember that I once +said that he might be able to do something great for you?” + +“Well, in that case,” said Elliott, trying to focus this new aspect of +events, “did he tell those fellows the right place? If he did, it’s +too late to look.” + +“Did he tell them anything?” + +“He said the wreck was on Ibo Island, latitude and longitude +something. I supposed that he said it merely to save himself—the first +place he could think of. Do you remember where the exact spot was?” + +“No. But I have the map in my trunk.” + +“Would you mind getting it? Of course,” he added, “you’ll have an +equal share in whatever we get out of it. But if you really know the +right spot there isn’t a minute to lose.” + +She sat without moving, however. “Come and see me this afternoon,” she +said, finally. “I want to think it over.” + +Elliott was astonished at this request. Surely she could not distrust +him, though unquestionably it was her secret. He reflected dubiously +that there is never any knowing what a woman will decide to do with a +delicate case. + +“You said that one of your friends—one of your partners—was in the +city,” she said, as he left. “Please bring him with you this +afternoon. I think it would be right.” + +More bewildered than ever, Elliott went away to find Bennett, who was +able to throw no light on his perplexity. But they returned together +to the hotel at three o’clock, where Margaret received them with a +manner which was more animated than in the forenoon. + +“This is the map,” she said, holding up a folded piece of paper, +spotted and stained. “I have just been looking at it again. What place +did you say my father told them?” + +“Ibo Island, latitude south twelve, forty something. I forget the +longitude,” replied Elliott. “Do you think that’s it?” + +She consulted the map again. + +“No. It isn’t Ibo Island, and it isn’t latitude twelve, forty, at all. +It’s nearly a hundred miles south of that, I should think. It must be +nearly two hundred miles from Ibo Island.” + +“I thought he wasn’t telling the truth,” said Elliott, tactlessly. + +“No,” the girl flashed back. “He died with an untruth on his lips for +my sake. He thought I might still profit by this gold. Tell me,” she +went on, after a nervous pause, “have those other men any right to +it?” + +“No more than we have.” + +“Does the treasure belong to any one? I mean, will it be defrauding +any one if we take it?” + +“Apparently not. It’s treasure-trove. But where is it?” + +She folded the map and stowed it inside her blouse. “I’ll take you to +it,” she said. + +“You?” exclaimed Elliott. “You couldn’t.” + +“You can’t find it without my help, it seems. I will give you this map +when our boat is out of sight of land—the boat in which we go to find +the wreck. You will have to take me with you.” + +Bennett looked closely at the girl, and smiled quietly. + +“But, great heavens! you don’t know what you’re asking,” cried +Elliott. “You don’t know what sort of a rough crew we’ll ship. It may +come to fighting.” + +“I’m not afraid. And you know I can shoot.” + +“It’s simply out of the question,” Elliott said, decisively. “You must +stay here or go back to Lincoln. You’ll give us the map, and we’ll +bring back your share for you. You can trust us, I hope?” + +“It isn’t that I’m afraid. But I have no friends now nor money. No one +knows anything of me; what does it matter what I do? And I can’t stay +here. I think I should die if I had to stay in San Francisco. I must +do something—I don’t care what. Oh, set it down as a girl’s foolish +freak—anything you like!” she exclaimed, passionately. “But I go with +your expedition, or it goes without the map.” + +Elliott looked helplessly at Bennett, who said nothing. Then a new +idea struck him. + +“But we’re too late anyhow. Those other fellows have a month’s start, +and they will certainly search all the islands within two or three +hundred miles.” + +“I was thinking of that,” said Bennett. “I don’t see why Miss Laurie +shouldn’t go with us if she’s determined to do it. But the time? Let’s +figure it out.” + +“I’m afraid it’s hopeless,” said Elliott. “It’s three weeks from here +to Hongkong.” + +“Well, let’s see. Suppose they sailed within a day or two after you +did. It’s about two weeks to Bombay. They’ll have trouble in getting a +steamer for the East African coast, because there isn’t any regular +service. They’re certain to be delayed there for ten days or two +weeks, and when they do sail it will be on a slow ship, because there +isn’t anything else in those waters. It’ll take them over a month to +get to Zanzibar.” + +“They may be there by this time, then,” remarked Elliott. + +“Well, suppose they are. It’ll take them nearly a month to fit out +their expedition, hire a vessel, get a crew, divers and diving-suits, +and they’ll be three or four days in sailing to Ibo Island. They’ll +spend a day or two there, and then they’ll begin to look elsewhere. If +the right place is over two hundred miles away, it’ll take them two or +three weeks to get to it. They can’t reasonably get to the _Clara +McClay_ in less than six to seven weeks from to-day.” + +“But it will take us the same six or seven weeks to get there, not +speaking of the distance from here to Hongkong,” Elliott objected. + +“Yes, if we go that way. But rail travel is quicker than land, and +we’re only five days from New York.” + +“By Jove! I see,” cried Elliott, catching the idea. + +“New York to London is seven days, if we make the right connections. +London to Durban is about seventeen days, isn’t it? It’ll take a few +more days to get to Delagoa Bay, and say another week to sail up the +channel to the wreck. Total about five weeks. It gives us a margin of +about one week. We’ll wire Henninger at once to get his outfit ready +at Delagoa Bay, and we’ll sail the moment we get there.” + +“There’s just a chance, I do believe,” exclaimed Elliott. “But why not +start our expedition from Zanzibar? It’s nearer.” + +“So it is, and that’s why Sevier will choose it. We don’t want to meet +him there or anywhere else.” + +“Suppose we meet his gang at the wreck?” + +“We must beat them off.” + +“Yes, there’s a chance—a fighting chance, after all,” said Elliott, +getting up and beginning to walk about restlessly. “That is, if Miss +Laurie will be reasonable,” looking at her imploringly. + +“I am perfectly reasonable.” + +“You’ll give us the steering directions, then?” + +“Not till we are on board, at Delagoa Bay. Come, we’ll argue the +question as we go. There’s no time to lose now. Can we get a train +to-night?” + +“The Overland leaves at seven o’clock,” said Bennett. “It’s as she +says. There’s no time to talk. We’ve got just the narrowest margin +now, and our only chance is in knowing exactly where to go when we +sail from Africa.” + +“I’ll be ready at six,” said Margaret, decisively. “We’ll talk it all +over on the train.” + + + + + CHAPTER XV. THE OTHER WAY ROUND THE WORLD + + +Before the train left Elliott cabled again to Henninger, this time +using the usual code for abbreviation’s sake: + +“Found what we wanted. Am coming with Bennett. Have expedition ready +at Delagoa Bay, not Zanzibar. Buy arms. Wire American Line, New York.” + +He also telegraphed to New York for berths on the Southampton steamer +sailing on the eighth day from that time. He reserved three berths, +though he was resolved that only two should be used. “She may as well +come on to Chicago,” he reflected, “or even to New York. The East is a +better place than the West to leave her.” But somewhere on the +cross-continent journey he intended to convince her of the folly of +her resolution. + +But somehow he did not feel equal to the endeavour at present, so he +established Margaret comfortably in a chair-car, and went to smoke +with Bennett. + +“This is a nice state of things,” he said, biting a cigar irritably in +two. “Why didn’t you back me up? I thought you were against having +women in a man’s game.” + +“So I am,” replied Bennett, who did not appear dissatisfied. “But I +never argue with a woman when she’s made up her mind. Give her time +and she’ll change it herself. Miss Laurie will give us the map all +right, and if she won’t—” + +“Then she’ll have to go with us.” + +“No. We can take it” + +“Take it? Do you mean by force?” + +“Yes, if necessary. Of course we’ll give her a square divvy.” + +“By heavens, Bennett!” said Elliott, “if you ever try to lay a hand on +that girl I’ll shoot you. Yes, I will. So there’s your plan of robbing +her, and you can put that in your pipe and smoke it. That map’s her +own, and I’m here to see that she does as she likes with it.” + +“All right; have it your own way,” said Bennett, easily. “I don’t care +a twopenny hang if she does sail with us. She seems to be a sensible +sort of girl who wouldn’t bother. It was you who kicked about it.” + +“I know it was, and you’ll see that I’ll convince her yet,” replied +Elliott, gloomily. After a long pause, “What do you think of her?” he +demanded, almost uncontrollably. + +“Oh, I don’t know,” responded Bennett, between puffs. “Regular Western +type, isn’t she? Sensible, nice girl, I guess. I didn’t see much in +her.” + +Elliott stared in amazement at such lack of penetration, threw down +his cigar, and went back to the car where Margaret was settled with a +heap of magazines, which she was not reading. Bennett meanwhile smiled +thoughtfully at the approaching foot-hills with the air of a man for +whom life has no more surprises. + +There was plenty of time now to argue the question of Margaret’s +accompanying the expedition, and Elliott argued it. The girl did +little more than listen, sometimes smiling at the floods of polemic +that were poured upon her all the way across the foot-hills, through +the gorges and tunnels and trestles of the mountains, and down the +slope to the desert. She would listen, but she would not discuss. She +would talk of any other subject but that one. It seemed to Elliott’s +watchful eye, however, that she was becoming a little more cheerful, +that she was beginning to recuperate a little from the terrible strain +of her experiences, and he said, mentally, that it was perhaps a good +thing, after all, that she should go as far as New York. + +Bennett absolutely refused to assist him, and remained for the most +part in the smoking-car while the train skated down the eastern slope +and roared out upon the great desert. At Ogden Elliott noted with +satisfaction that they were maintaining schedule time. At Denver they +were only an hour late. The country was becoming level, so that there +were no topographical obstacles to speed. + +“This is my country!” exclaimed Margaret. She was watching the +gray-green rolling plain slowly revolve upon the middle distance. A +couple of horsemen in wide hats and chaparejos were loping across it +half a mile away. “How I should like to get off, get a horse, and just +tear across those plains!” + +“Do it, for goodness’ sake,” said Elliott. “We’ll be in Kansas City +to-morrow, and you can wait there or in Lincoln till we come back with +your share of the plunder.” + +“No, I’ve something else to think of. Are we going to catch the +steamer, do you think?” + +“You are not,” Elliott retorted. + +She smiled rather wearily, trying to see the cow-punchers, who were +out of sight. + +“How on earth can I convince you of your foolishness? You seem to have +no idea of the rough sort of a trip it will be, nor the gang of +cutthroats we may ship for a crew. Why, you don’t even know what sort +of men my partners are.” + +“I suppose they’re like you and Mr. Bennett. I’m not afraid of them, +nor of anything else.” + +“But can’t you trust us—can’t you trust me?—to look after your +interests?” + +“You know it isn’t that,” cried Margaret. “It’s unkind of you to put +it that way. Oh, don’t harass me!” she appealed. “I am wretched enough +as it is. Don’t you see that I have to do something to keep myself +from thinking?” + +Against such an argument a man is always defenceless, and Elliott +abandoned the attack, baffled again. But he was not the less +determined that she should not leave America, and he reserved himself +for a final struggle at New York. + +They arrived at Omaha on Thursday night, and on the following morning +they were in Chicago. They had just thirty-five minutes for a hurried +breakfast and a brief walk up and down the vast, smoky platform before +they left for Buffalo. It was almost the last stage of the land +journey. + +“We’ll make it without a hitch,” said Bennett, cheerfully. “This is +better than the way I raced across the continent before on this job. +Do you remember that?” + +But they missed connections at Buffalo for the first time on the +transcontinental journey, and were obliged to wait for several hours +for the New York express. But Buffalo was left behind that night, and +on the next morning they arrived at Jersey City, and crossed the +ferry. New York harbour, sparkling in the mild September sunshine, +seemed to congratulate them. It was Sunday morning, and there was +plenty of time, for the _St. Paul_ did not sail till Monday noon. + +Margaret went to a quiet, but expensive hotel, which Elliott selected +for her, while he lodged himself with Bennett at the same house where +the party had made rendezvous with Sullivan four months ago. The place +looked the same as ever, and it was hard to realize that he had +circled the globe since that time, and it was not pleasant to remember +that he did not seem to be appreciably nearer the lost treasure. +However, they had a definite clue at last,—or, rather, Margaret had +one. It was now only a question of time, and of obtaining this clue +from its possessor, who must go no further eastward. + +At the offices of the American Line, Elliott found a cablegram from +Henninger awaiting him. It read: + +“Wire directions. Dangerous to wait.” + +Elliott showed this message to Margaret. “This settles it, you see,” +he said. “Henninger probably has his expedition all ready to sail, and +we’ll all have to stay here till the work is done.” + +“Are you going to stay, too?” she interrogated. + +“Well,” Elliott hesitated, having no such intention. “I guess Bennett +and I will go on, though I don’t expect we can get there in time to +join the boys before they sail. But you’ll stay here, of course. Would +you rather stay in New York, or go into the country?” + +“I’m going to South Africa,” remarked Margaret, looking out the +window. + +“You’ve gone just as far as you are going.” + +“I haven’t. You need me. Now, don’t rehearse all your arguments to me; +I’ve heard them all, and they’re all sound. But I know the one you are +thinking of, but daren’t mention—that it would be unladylike and not +respectable for me to go.” + +Elliott laughed. “I must confess that that argument hadn’t entered my +mind.” + +“Then I’m not going to give up what I want to do, just because I +happen to be a girl. I expect I’d be as useful as any one of your +party. I’m strong; and I can outride you and outshoot you, as you know +very well. Do you think I care what any one will say? Nobody in the +world takes interest in me enough to say anything. Do you want me to +remind myself again that I have no money? I’ve been living on you; I +know it. But I can endure that because I shall soon be able to pay +back every cent, but I’m not going to sit here and wait till you come +back from your adventures and give me what you think my secret is +worth. I’m going to share in it all, whatever comes—fortune or +fighting. There’s nobody in the world now who cares whether I live or +die, or—what’s more important, I suppose—whether I’m ladylike or not.” + +“How about me?” said Elliott. He hesitated, and then plunged +desperately ahead. “Margaret, you’ve said that before, and I can’t +stand your feeling like that. Look here, I may as well tell you now: +all that gold is nothing to me in comparison with your unhappiness or +danger. Let me look after you and think of you; you’ll find me better +than nobody. I’m asking you to marry me, Margaret.” + +He felt at once conscious of having blundered, but it was too late. + +“Oh, how dare you!” she flashed. She jumped up, and stood vibrating in +every nerve. “Do you think that I would marry you because you pity me? +Perhaps you thought that I was trying to work on your feelings, so +that you had to say that to me! Don’t be afraid; I’m not going to +accept you. I’m not going to South Africa merely to be in your +society. I suppose you thought that! How dared you?” + +She sank down on the sofa again and burst into passionate sobbing, +with her face buried in the cushions. + +“Margaret—” ventured Elliott, approaching her. + +“Go away!” she cried, lifting a face in which the eyes still blazed +behind the tears. “I will go with you—I will—now more than ever—but +I’ll never speak to you!” + +Elliott went away as he was ordered, sore and angry at Margaret, at +himself. He could not understand how she could so have misconceived +him. He felt almost disposed to let her go her own way and take her +own chances; and yet he felt that he must be always at her side to see +that she suffered nothing. He walked over to Broadway, inwardly +fuming, and stopped at a cable agency, where he sent another message +to Henninger: + +“Can’t wire clue. Am bringing it. Be ready at Delagoa.” + +He had considerable trepidation in calling for Margaret the next +morning, but he found her cold and calm. Her pallor had returned, and +she looked as if she had not slept. + +“Are you still determined to go?” he asked. + +“Certainly.” + +“It’s time to go, then. The ship sails at noon. There’s a cab +down-stairs for you.” + +Her valise was already packed and strapped; so was her small steamer +trunk, and she had nothing to do but put on her hat. She had been +expecting him, and in half an hour they were on board the great liner, +and had been shown their staterooms. Bennett was waiting for them at +the wharf, and the big ship swung majestically from her moorings and +moved down the bay, past the rugged sierra skyline of brick and +granite that had stimulated Elliott’s fancy when he last sailed from +this port on the apparently endless trail of gold. + +During the first half of the voyage he did not find Margaret +conversational; she appeared to endure his presence with bare +patience. She had plenty of other society on board, but neither did +she seem to care much for the men who tried to scrape acquaintance +with her with the relaxed etiquette of travel. She appeared to take a +fancy for Bennett, however, and spent hours in long talks with him +when she was not reading or gazing meditatively from her deck-chair +across the dark, unstable sea. + +Elliott perceived that he had done wrong, but he did not see how to +remedy it. He had indeed been tactless and brutal; he had, or it +looked as if he had, tried to force himself upon her while she was +virtually his guest. Still, he thought that she might have +misunderstood him less violently; and, while he admitted that he had +been served rightfully, he felt aggrieved that he had not been served +more mercifully. However, since she appeared to have no taste for his +conversation, he was prepared, for the present, to dispose of it +elsewhere. + +But she called him to her that afternoon on deck, and pointed to an +unoccupied chair beside her own. He sat down and looked at her with an +expression that he tried to make severe, but which failed in the face +of her smile. + +“Don’t you think it’s very absurd for fellow passengers not to be +friends?” she asked. + +“Very,” he replied, a little stiffly. + +“Come, you see I’m making the advances. You were rude and unkind to +me, and you haven’t apologized as you should. Are you sorry?” + +“In one way—yes.” + +She made a little face. “That’s not good enough. But I’ll let you off. +I’ll forget what you said, on condition that you make no more +objection to my going where I please. Is it a bargain?” + +“I suppose so—for my objections have no effect anyway.” + +“Not a bit. They only spoil everything. Don’t you understand,” she +went on, earnestly, “that I had to do this? If I had stayed at home, +or wherever I tried to make a home, I would have died; I would have +gone mad with loneliness and trouble. You don’t know what I have +suffered. Perhaps you think I am forgetting it, but it follows me +night and day. I daren’t think of it, or speak of it. I have to do +something—anything. Don’t you understand?” + +“Perhaps not altogether. But you shall go where you like, without let +or hindrance,” said Elliott, gravely. + +“We’re friends again, then?” + +“I think so.” + +“Ah, but you must be sure,” she insisted. + +“Well, then, I am sure,” he said, laughingly; though in his heart he +felt no such certainty. But he saw clearly that friendship would have +to do till the treasure-hunt were finished. On that expedition they +were comrades and fellow adventurers, and nothing more. + +During the remainder of the passage he therefore endeavoured to return +as far as possible to the easy spirit of the Hongkong days, though +Hongkong was a place of which neither cared to speak. Margaret +appeared to welcome this regained camaraderie, and her spirits seemed +to grow brighter than at her landing in America. They talked of many +things, but they avoided the subject of the treasure-ship; that was +dangerous to touch; it was too near their hearts. Yet in the intervals +of silence there was an image upon Elliott’s inward eye, an image that +came to be almost permanent, of another steamer, this one ploughing +through the heated blue of the Indian Ocean, and of two men leaning +over her bow, with their faces and thoughts running forward to the +same spot as his own. The same sort of vision must have presented +itself to Margaret, for she once, though only once, exclaimed: + +“Do you think we’ll be in time?” + +“I don’t know. It would have been safer if you had let us cable the +directions. For the last couple of weeks, I’ve somehow felt that the +game was up,” responded Elliott. + +“It’s not!” she cried. “I know it. We will be in time. We must.” + +“Well, we’re doing all we can,” said Elliott. “We’re due to reach +Southampton to-morrow at ten in the forenoon, and the Cape Town +steamer sails the next day at noon. We’re cutting it pretty fine.” + +The _St. Paul_ arrived punctually at her dock, and her passengers +scattered, most of them taking the steamer special train for London. +Elliott saw Margaret established in a comfortable hotel for the day +and night, and went down to the steamer offices with Bennett to see if +by chance there was any telegram. There was one, and Elliott ripped it +open: + + “For God’s sake,” it read, “wire clue immediately. Other + party at Zanzibar. Can’t wait. + + “Henninger.” + +Bennett read the message, and whistled low. The two men looked at each +other. + +“Can’t you persuade her to tell us?” Bennett asked. + +“No. She’s determined to go.” + +“Well, she’ll make us lose the whole thing.” He reflected a moment. +“We’ll have to take it from her.” + +“I told you what I would do if you tried that,” said Elliott, in an +even voice. “I’ll do it; you can count on me. I’m just as keen on +getting that stuff as you are, but by fair play. After all, Sevier and +Carlton can’t be so much ahead of us, and they don’t know where to +look.” + +“I expect I’m as quick as you are, if it came to shooting,” said +Bennett. “But a row would spoil everything, bring in the police and +all sorts of nastiness. But look there—that’s what I’ve been looking +at.” He indicated a large placard bearing the sailing dates of the +ships of the Union Castle Line for South Africa. “Didn’t you say that +our ship sailed Tuesday noon? That card says Monday noon, and that’s +to-day, and it’s eleven-forty now.” + +“By Jove, that’s so!” said Elliott, looking hard at the card. “The +agent in New York certainly said Tuesday. Here,” he called to a clerk. +“Is that sailing list right? Does the _Avon Castle_ sail to-day?” + +“Sails at noon sharp, sir,” the clerk assured him. + +Elliott exploded an ejaculation and shot out of the office. Luckily +there was a cab within a few yards; luckily again, it was a +four-wheeler. + +“Hotel Surry, quick as you know how!” shouted Bennett, and the driver +whipped up his horses. There was just eighteen minutes, and to miss +the steamer would entail a delay of three or four days, when every +hour was worth red gold. + +“Won’t you hear reason?” said Bennett. “Won’t you help me to make her +give up that map? Everything may depend on this minute.” + +“No, I won’t,” countered Elliott, flatly. + +“You’re as bad as she is. If I had Henninger here, we’d coerce you; +and by Jove, you’d better think what you’ll say to the boys when they +hear that you’ve queered the whole game.” + +“I’ll take the blame,” said Elliott; though in his heart he disliked +the situation almost as much as his companion did. + +Fortunately Margaret had not yet unpacked anything, and Elliott +brought her down the stairs with a rush, and hurried her into the cab. +It was only a few hundred yards to the dock, but as they neared it +they heard the gruff warning whistle of the liner. + +“Oh, is it too late?” gasped Margaret, who was very pale. + +The gangplank was being cleared as the party rushed down the platform; +the plank was drawn ashore almost before they had reached the deck. +There was another hoarse blast from the great whistle; a shout of “All +clear aft!” and then the space between the wharf and the ship’s side +began to widen. + +“Safe!” said Bennett. “It’s an omen.” + +But Elliott pulled the crumpled telegram from his pocket where he had +crammed it, and showed it to Margaret. + +“I don’t care,” said she, still breathing hard from the race. “We will +be there before them. I feel it.” + +“Heaven send you’re right. You’re taking a big responsibility,” +replied Elliott, gravely. + +“That reminds me that we didn’t have time to answer that cable,” +Bennett put in. “Never mind. Henninger will be wild, but we had +nothing to say.” + +It is a long way from Southampton to Cape Town, even when one is not +in a hurry. But when life and death, or money, which in modern life is +the same thing, hangs upon the ship’s speed, the length of the passage +is doubled and tripled, for the ordinary pastimes of sea life become +impossible. Shuffleboard is frivolous; books are impertinent, and +there is no interest in passing ships or monsters of the deep. The +three adventurers hung together, talking little, but mutely sharing +the strain of uncertainty. Late one night in the second week, Elliott +suddenly proposed poker to Bennett. + +“Big stakes,” he said, “payable from our profits later? It’ll kill the +cursed time.” + +But Bennett shook his head. “I’ve just sense enough left to keep away +from gambling now. If we started we wouldn’t stop till we’d won or +lost every cent we’ll ever have.” + +Elliott acquiesced moodily. The strain was wearing on his nerves, and +he went out of the smoking-room and walked along the deserted deck. It +was a brilliant blue night; the stars overhead blazed like torches, +and the dark line of the foremast plunged through the Southern Cross +as the bows rose and fell. The steamer shook with the pulsations of +the screws, and the water foamed and thundered back upon her sides, +but to Elliott she seemed barely to crawl. It occurred to him that the +treasure must be then almost directly east of him, on the other side +of Africa. + +The _Avon Castle_ ran into a gale off Cape Frio which kept most of the +passengers below decks for a day or two. Thence the weather was fresh +to the latitude of the Cape, where it became equinoctially blustering. +It was not sufficiently rough to affect the speed materially, however, +and at last the cloud swathed head of Table Mountain loomed in sight +above the long-desired harbour. It seemed as if the long trail was +almost done, for success or failure. + +Cape Town was swarming with uniforms and campaign khaki, and animated +with just renewed peace and the business of peace, but they stayed +there only six hours before they caught the boat for Durban. + +Here was a check. There was no railroad to Lorenzo Marques, unless +they took the long détour through Pretoria, over a line choked with +military service, and there was no regular steamer plying. After the +two men had spent a fevered day of searching the harbour, however, +Bennett discovered a decayed freighter which would sail the next day, +and he promptly engaged three passages at an exorbitant figure. + +Then there was a day to wait, and two days more at sea, and these +proved the most trying days of all. It was so near the goal,—a goal +which, perhaps, they would never reach! The sun blazed down hotly on +the unshaded decks as the rusty steamer wallowed along at the speed of +a horse-car, while they all three leaned over the bows, watching for +the first glimpse of the Portuguese harbour. + +They reached it just before sunset. A white British gunboat was lying +in the English River, and there was little shipping in the bay except +native craft. A flock of shore-boats swarmed about the steamer as she +dropped anchor, the customs launch having already come aboard. + +“See that! By thunder, that’s Henninger!” cried Bennett, pointing to a +good-sized and very dirty Arab dhow lying some fifteen fathoms away. +She was the nearest craft in the harbour, and there were a dozen or +more men moving about her decks. Standing in the stern with a glass to +his eye, which was turned on the steamer, was a white man who looked +familiar to Elliott as well. + +“I believe you’re right. That’ll be his ship. Yes, I caught a flash of +eye-glasses on another fellow—that’ll be Sullivan,” exclaimed Elliott, +excitedly, and Bennett sent a long hail over the water. + +“Ahoy! The dhow! Hen-ning-er! How-oop!” + +The man with the glass waved his hat, and two other men hurried up to +the dhow’s stern. + +“Come along. Let’s go aboard her now,” Bennett exclaimed, on fire with +impatience. + +Elliott looked sharply at Margaret. She was flushed with excitement, +as he could see in the quick tropic twilight, and her lips were set in +a determined line. Her baggage was hurried on deck and sent down into +a shore-boat at the end of a line, and in another minute they were +being ferried to the dhow. + + + + + CHAPTER XVI. THE END OF THE TRAIL + + +“Elliott! Thank heaven!—is that you at last?” exclaimed Henninger, +hurrying up to the rail as the boat hooked on the dhow’s side. “Why in +the name of everything didn’t you cable as I told you?” + +Henninger’s voice had the same imperious ring, though he was dressed +in a very dirty flannel shirt and a pair of duck trousers that had +long ago been white, supported by a leather belt. His sleeves were +rolled up to the elbows, and arms and face were burned to a deep +reddish brown. Hawke and Sullivan were dressed as unconventionally as +the chief in costumes to which Sullivan’s gold eye-glasses and urban +countenance lent the last touch of eccentricity. In the bow was a +cluster of half-nude Arabs. + +“I didn’t cable because I couldn’t,” Elliott replied. “I don’t know +myself where the spot is.” + +“What did you mean, then, by saying you had found it? How are you, +Bennett?—glad to see you! What—who’s this?” as his eye fell upon Miss +Margaret, who had just clambered over the rail. “We don’t want any +women aboard here.” + +“This is Miss Margaret Laurie, Henninger,” explained Elliott. “She +knows where the place is. She has a map of it, and she’s going with us +to show us.” + +Henninger bowed in acknowledgment of the introduction. + +“No, she’s not going with us,” he said, decisively. “This is no +picnic—no place for women. I’ll have to ask you to give us that map, +Miss Laurie, at once. We have to sail immediately. We’ve been waiting +here, on the raw edge, for over a week.” + +“I shall not give you the map,” Margaret returned, firmly. “I am going +to sail with you.” + +“Then I’m sorry, but I’ll have to take it,” said Henninger, and +stepped quickly forward. + +“None of that, Henninger,” exclaimed Elliott, but before he could +interfere further, the girl had whipped a black, serviceable revolver +from the dress, the same weapon which Elliott had seen her use in +Lincoln. + +“Stop,” she said, directing its muzzle at Henninger’s chest. “I’ll +show you my map when we’re out of sight of land.” + +Henninger stopped short, looked at her queerly, and finally broke into +a small, amused chuckle. + +“Put away your little gun, Miss Laurie,” he said. “I fancy I made a +mistake. I reckon you can come with us if you want to, if the other +boys don’t object. Oh, come, don’t break down, after that gun-play.” + +“I’m not—not breaking down,” said Margaret, faintly, but still firmly. +“But I think I’d like to sit down.” + +Henninger handed her an empty keg, which seemed to be the nearest +thing to a chair on board, and she collapsed. The twilight had +deepened to almost total darkness. + +“Bring a lantern aft, you!” shouted Henninger, and one of the men in +the bow made a light and brought it to the stern. His brown Arab face +shone in the circle of illumination, an aquiline, predatory profile, +and his eyes flashed upon the group of white men around the girl. + +Sullivan brought her a tin cup of tepid water into which he poured a +little whiskey, and she drank it with a wry face. She glanced around +at the circle of roughly dressed men, at the litter of miscellaneous +articles that encumbered the deck of the rough native boat, and +shuddered. A moist, unhealthy smell came off shore, there was a sound +of loud and violent altercation in Dutch from the deck of a +neighbouring barque, and a couple of pistol-shots cracked from +somewhere along the wharves. + +Elliott moved closer to her and laid his hand upon her arm. + +“I didn’t know it would be like this,” she murmured. + +“Don’t be frightened,” said Elliott. “There’s no one here to be afraid +of. But don’t you think you had better go ashore, after all? The +American consul will make you comfortable till we get back, you know.” + +“No—anything rather than that city! I’m not afraid, only tired out. +I’ve come all the way from China,” she said to Henninger, “almost +without stopping, and here I thought I’d be among friends.” + +“So you are,” the Englishman assured her. “Only just look at this +boat. We’ve got no accommodation for ladies. You’ll just have to rough +it like the rest of us. And there’s some danger; there may be a fight +before we’re through. And our own crew would cut our throats if we +didn’t keep them cowed. I still think you’d better go ashore and stay +there. But if you are willing to take your chances, you’re welcome.” + +“I’ll take the risks, of course, and I don’t want any favours because +I’m a girl. I’ll just be one of your party. When can we get started?” + +“The tide’s on the ebb now, and everything is shipped,” Hawke +remarked. + +“Yes, no use waiting,” said Henninger. “I’ll speak to the reis. +Halloo, Abdullah! Come aft a moment.” + +“Who’s the reis?” Bennett inquired. + +“He’s the captain, that is, the sailing-master under our orders,” +Sullivan explained. “You see, none of us knew anything about +navigation. He’s a fine old fellow, on the dead square, and hand and +glove with us. We’re paying him a small fortune for the run, and he’s +the only man aboard, except ourselves, who knows anything of what +we’re after.” + +The reis came aft deliberately, a finely athletic Arab past middle +age, with an aristocratic coffee-coloured face and a short grizzled +beard. He was dressed in spotless white, and wore a short sword and +dagger in his sash. Henninger conferred aside with him for a few +minutes. + +“All right,” said the Englishman, returning. “The anchor will be up +directly and we’ll be off. High time, too. Meanwhile, I’d like to hear +what you’ve been doing, Elliott. I got your letter from Hongkong.” + +Elliott thereupon briefly narrated the surprising developments of the +past month. + +“I see. You were a bold woman to try to hold us up, Miss Laurie,” said +Henninger, grimly. “Other people have tried it, but not often twice.” + +“There’s a good chance that we’ll be in time, after all,” said +Sullivan. + +“Of course we will!” Margaret cried. “What’s that?” + +It was the rattle as the crew manned the windlass. The chain cable +came in grating harshly, and the dhow glided forward and swung round +as she was hove short. A couple of Arabs hauled around the big lateen +mainsail, and then came aft to perform the same office for the smaller +mizzen-sail, while the reis himself took the helm, which was a heavy +beam projecting fully ten feet inboard over the stern. The anchor was +broken out and came up ponderously against the bows. + +“We’re off!” exclaimed Hawke, boyishly. + +The dhow began to move slowly down the river under the ebb-tide, and +gradually gathered way in the slight breeze from the land,—the dark +land of Africa that gloomed behind them. The treasure hunt was really +begun. + +Upon the dhow’s after-deck no one spoke for several minutes. Every one +of the adventurers was doubtless busy with his own reflection, and +there was an impressive touch about this silent putting forth into the +darkness—a darkness not so deep as their own ignorance of the end of +that voyage. And every one felt instinctively that much would be lost +as well as won before that cargo should be raised that had cost the +lives of so many men already. + +A sudden recollection shook the spell of silence from Elliott. + +“That other party at Zanzibar—what about them?” he asked. + +“They got there over two weeks ago, just before I left,” Henninger +answered. “There were two men. They must have been your friends Sevier +and Carlton, by your description, and they were trying to hire some +sort of craft and crew. Ships happened luckily to be scarce at +Zanzibar just then, and they hadn’t made any headway when I came here +to superintend things. Sullivan had chartered this boat already, and I +picked up Hawke at Mozambique as I came down. They can’t have much the +start of us at the most.” + +“And what then?” demanded Bennett. + +“Why, we outfitted this dhow, and no joke it was. We were lucky in +picking up a full diving outfit. It’s badly battered, but we got it +cheap, and it’ll serve. We hired a Berber Arab with it, who used to +work on the sponge boats in the Levant and understands it. Then we had +to rig a rough derrick apparatus to hoist heavy weights aboard by +man-power. We had to get a crew, and provisions and arms—no end of +things. It was like stocking a shop. We finished the job five days +ago, and we’ve been waiting ever since for a message from you.” + +“We’d have murdered you if we could have caught you. We were about +ready to go off our heads,” Hawke supplemented. + +The dhow was clearing the river mouth, and the Arab skipper hauled her +course to the northward. The breeze was fresher outside, and she +rapidly increased her speed, rolling heavily under the seas, for she +was in light ballast. + +“We’ve arranged to take turns standing watches,” said Henninger. “One +of us must always be on guard till we get back. I’ll take the first +watch, from nine o’clock till midnight, and then Hawke and then +Sullivan, three hours apiece. Elliott and Bennett will take their +turns the next night, and this arrangement gives two men a full sleep +every night.” + +“I’ll take my turn,” interposed Margaret. + +“No,” said Henninger, in a tone that closed the question. “The rest of +us sleep on blankets spread on the deck because it’s so hot, Miss +Laurie, but you can have the cabin, or we’ll swing you a hammock +amidships. But you’d suffocate in the cabin, I’m afraid. You said you +didn’t want any favours, and we can’t give you any.” + +Margaret chose the hammock, which an Arab seaman was ordered to sling +for her. But no one turned in for two more hours; there was too much +excitement in the actual, long-delayed start. But the cool sea-wind +brought quiet, and excitement gave place at last to intense weariness. + +Elliott spread his blanket beside the rail only a couple of yards from +Margaret’s hammock. + +“If anything should frighten you in the night, just speak to me and +I’ll hear you instantly,” he remarked, as he lay down. + +“All right,” she replied; but he felt more than certain that whatever +the alarm, she would sooner have bitten off the end of her tongue than +have appealed to him for help. + +Elliott awoke several times during the night. The dhow was rushing +forward at, it seemed to him, tremendous speed, and he was spattered +occasionally by smart splashes of foam from over-side. Margaret’s +hammock was swaying heavily in the roll, but she appeared to be +asleep, and all was quiet on deck. At the stern he could see the white +figure of the steersman leaning hard against the tiller, and there was +a dark form beside the rail, undoubtedly one of his friends on the +watch. + +At last he awoke again with a start, to find it broad day. The dhow’s +decks were wet; there was a cloudy sky, and a fresh wet wind blowing +from the southeast. No land was anywhere in sight; the sea, gray as +iron, was covered with racing whitecaps. Looking at his watch, he +found that it was half-past five, and he arose and walked aft, feeling +a trifle cramped and stiff, to where Sullivan was lounging out the +last hour of his duty. Margaret still slept profoundly in her hammock. + +“What do you think of our clipper? I picked her out,” said Sullivan, +walking forward to meet him. + +Elliott was now able for the first time to get a clear view of the +craft upon which he had embarked. The dhow was about ninety feet long +and rather broad in the beam, with two masts stepped with an +extravagant rake forward, each bearing a great lateen sail. There was +a long, knifelike sheer to her cutwater, and a great overhang to her +stern, and she was decked completely over, with forward and aft +companion ladders leading below. + +“She seems to be able to sail,” replied Elliott, glancing at the +racing water alongside. + +“That’s no lie. The skipper says she can do fourteen knots with the +right kind of a wind. Her name’s the _Omeyyah_, or words to that +effect. She’d make a sensation in the New York Yacht Club, wouldn’t +she?” + +“What’s your crew like? Are they really the tough gang that Henninger +said?” + +“Oh, I fancy he was piling it on to frighten that girl. She’s dead +game, isn’t she? No, the men are all coast Arabs—pretty peaceable lot, +I reckon. You see, they’re all of the same tribe as the reis, and he’s +guaranteed good behaviour from them. Besides, we’re well armed. +There’s a big revolver apiece and a dozen Mauser rifles down below, +with a thousand cartridges. Second-hand military rifles can be bought +at bargain prices in Lorenzo Marques just now.” + +Henninger came aft at that moment, looked earnestly at sea and sky, +and drew a bucket of water from over the side for his ablutions. +Elliott and Sullivan followed his example; and when Margaret appeared +a few minutes later from behind the mizzen-sail, she, too, was served +with a bucket of salt water and a towel. + +“I’m going to braid my hair as I used when I was at school,” she +exclaimed, laughing, after an unsuccessful attempt to reduce the curls +to order. Her eyes shone; her cheeks glowed after the salt water, and +her voice had a gay ring. For the first time an unwilling conviction +began to invade Elliott that perhaps after all this expedition was +better for her than to remain in America, brooding and waiting. + +“We’ll have the cabin fixed up a little for you, with a wash-stand and +a bit of a mirror,” said Henninger. “You can sleep in that hammock, if +you like, but you’ll want some corner of your own. No one else will +want to go into the cabin; it’s too hot. We live on deck.” + +“What else do we live on?” demanded Elliott “Isn’t it nearly time for +breakfast?” + +“Not for half an hour. And while we’re waiting, perhaps Miss Laurie +will—” + +Margaret understood, and she silently produced from inside her blouse +the folded paper which Elliott had seen at San Francisco. + +“This is the map my father made,” she said, opening it and handing it +to the chief. + +Every one crowded round to look. It was a carefully drawn sketch map +of a portion of the Mozambique Channel and the Zanzibar coast, and +there was a small island marked with a cross and with its latitude and +longitude—S. 13, 25, 8, and E. 33, 39, 18. + +Henninger produced a large chart of the East Coast and compared the +two. “The place must be just a little south of Mohilla Island,” he +said. “It’s two or three hundred miles from Ibo Island, where they’ll +look first.” + +“How far from here?” asked Hawke, who had come aft while they were +talking. + +“I don’t know exactly where we are now, but I should think it must be +a good eight or nine hundred miles.” + +“Good heavens!” Bennett cried in dismay. + +“But then it’s five hundred miles or so from Zanzibar, and we may have +got started before them. We can run the distance in five or six days, +or maybe in less, if this wind holds,” looking up at the gray-streaked +southern sky. + +“It’ll hold,” said Hawke. “The reis told me last night that the +southeast wind blows all the time at this season. It’s a trade-wind, I +fancy.” + +“And I think,” remarked Henninger, “that there’s a strong current +setting north through the channel that will help us two or three knots +an hour.” + +This important bit of oceanography was indeed corroborated by the +chart, and it put the whole party in excellent spirits, not even to be +spoiled by the execrable breakfast that was presently brought on deck. +Ice, milk, or butter were impossibilities on the _Omeyyah_, and the +provisioning consisted chiefly of American canned goods which did not +require cooking, and of mutton and rice which the Moslem in the galley +did his usually successful best to spoil. Only in one thing was he an +artist; the superb coffee made amends for all the rest. + +All that day the log-line was kept running, and showed an average +speed of nearly eleven knots, with an increase toward evening as the +wind freshened. The adventurers lounged about the decks, with no books +to read, with nothing to do, but feeling an exhilaration from the +rapid movement of the small craft which a steamer could never give at +double the speed. Away to port the coast of Africa showed occasionally +as a bluish darkening of the sea-line, and faded again. Two or three +dhows like their own passed them beating down the channel, and once a +long smear of smoke on the sky indicated a steamer hull down under the +eastward horizon. + +The second day passed much like the first, but the sun set cloudily, +and it rained during the night. At daybreak the wind was much fresher, +and it strengthened during the forenoon, veering more to the east. At +noon the dhow was heeling over heavily, and an hour later the skipper +ordered a reef taken in the mainsail. The good wind continued to +smarten until by the middle of the afternoon it was difficult to +maintain footing on the sloping and slippery deck. The sky was a flat, +windy gray; the sea had not a tinge of blue, and was covered with +sweeping white-crested rollers, through which the _Omeyyah_ ploughed +nobly. Occasionally she took one over the bows with a bursting smash, +sending a drenching cascade over the decks clear to the stern. It took +two men to hold the kicking tiller-head, and the adventurers clung to +the rigging upon the windward side, disregarding a ducking that could +not be avoided, for it seemed that oilskins was the one item of +equipment that had been forgotten. + +“How fast are we going?” Margaret cried to Elliott, trying to keep her +wet hair out of her eyes. The rattle and creak of the straining +rigging and blocks almost drowned her voice. + +“Thirteen knots, last time the log was taken,” Elliott shouted back. + +She made a gesture of triumph; at that rate they would surely win. +Henninger came up unsteadily, holding to the rail, with his wet linen +clothes clinging to him like a bathing-suit. + +“The reis wants to run for shelter somewhere on the coast,” he +shouted. “He’s afraid we’re running right into a monsoon or +something.” + +“Tell him to go to the deuce!” cried Elliott. “This is just what we +want, and more of the same sort.” + +“That’s what I think,” said Henninger, and he retraced his difficult +way to the stern, where the Arab skipper himself stood beside the +helmsmen. Abdullah seemed to object to the recklessness of his +employer, and apparently a violent altercation ensued, but drowned at +a distance of ten feet by wind and water. It must have ended in the +submission of the reis, for the dhow continued to drive ahead, half +under water and half above it. + +Meals were only a pretence that day. The hatches had been battened +down, and no one left the deck, but Elliott brought a quantity of +biscuits and canned salmon from the galley, which every one ate where +he stood. It rained furiously that night, and with the rain the wind +seemed to moderate, in spite of the fears of the skipper. During the +next forenoon it remained intermittently fresh, but remained powerful +enough to drive the dhow at an average speed of ten knots all day. By +sunset, Henninger calculated that they must have run nearly nine +hundred miles, and should sight Mohilla Island the next day, supposing +they were neither too far east nor west. It had been impossible to +take an observation for the last two days, so that his estimate could +not be verified. + +It rained again early the next morning, but cleared brilliantly in an +hour or two, and the decks steamed. Sullivan, who had learned to take +an observation, brought up a second-hand sextant and a chronometer of +doubtful accuracy, and these instruments indicated at noon that the +expedition was about forty miles south-southwest of the desired point. +Allowing for errors, they should sight the wreck before sunset. + +The breeze had been gradually failing all day, but it had served its +purpose, and it would certainly last till dark. The course was hauled +more to the northwest, and Henninger himself ascended into the +main-rigging with a good glass, while the rest of the party clustered +at the bows. As the dhow glided easily over the shimmering sea, every +eye was strained, not so much in search of the island as for sail or +steam that would tell them that they had been anticipated at the +wreck. About three o’clock Sullivan disappeared from the deck, and +Elliott, who had occasion to go below, found him unpacking the rifles +and putting clips of cartridges into the magazines. + +“It’s time we were getting these things ready,” he remarked, with a +grimmer expression than Elliott had ever seen his imperturbable +countenance assume. + +“Do you think we’ll be in time?” Margaret asked him very anxiously, +when he returned to the deck. + +“I’m sure I don’t know any more than you do,” replied Elliott. + +“If we’re too late, or if the wreck isn’t there—I’ll never forgive +myself!” she breathed, desperately. + +“You begin to appreciate what you’ve done?” said Elliott, trying to +look at her sternly, but his glance softened; he wanted to comfort +her, to tell her that it didn’t matter after all whether they found +the treasure or not, since there was something better in life than +gold. For a moment it seemed to him that she almost expected it, but +before the moment was passed Henninger hailed the deck. + +“I think I’ve sighted it. There’s something, anyway.” + +Hawke burst out into a joyous whoop of excitement. “What direction?” +called Bennett. “Any other ship in sight?” + +“A little more to port.” + +The course was hauled a little more. “No sign of any other vessel +anywhere,” Henninger added, after carefully sweeping the horizon with +his binoculars. + +“Hurrah!” cried Margaret. “I knew we would win!” + +“We haven’t won yet. They may have come and gone,” Hawke interposed; +and at this reminder every one became nervously silent, gazing ahead. +After twenty minutes a whiter spot began to appear upon the blue +sea-line. + +As the island was gradually lifted, it appeared, as Bennett had +described it, to be a good-sized and absolutely barren patch of sand +and shingle. It seemed about half a mile long, and a couple of hundred +yards wide at the widest point, with a single eminence rising to a +height of perhaps a hundred feet near the eastward end. All around it +to windward a line of foam and spray marked the dangerous reefs, and a +cloud of sea-birds wheeled flashing in the sun overhead. But the gaze +of the adventurers was not fixed upon the island, but upon a great +heterogeneous mass that stood up among the breakers, white with the +droppings of the birds, but still showing the red of rusty iron, a +battered skeleton, having no longer any resemblance to a ship, but +nevertheless all that was left of the unlucky _Clara McClay_. + + + + + CHAPTER XVII. THE TREASURE + + +The gold-seekers gazed eagerly, and, as regards Elliott at least, with +strange emotions of excitement, at the ruins of the vessel they had +come so far to see, whose name had been familiar so long, but which +none but Bennett had ever seen. But it was not all of the +treasure-ship that lay staked upon the reef. She had evidently broken +in two, and the forward and larger portion had been swept into the +lagoon-like space beyond the rocks, where it could just be made out as +a shapeless bulge of iron scarce showing above the surface. In reply +to a question from Henninger, Bennett stated that the gold-chests had +been in the forehold, and must be, consequently, submerged. Even if +they had been in the after portion they must surely have been shaken +out of the wretched tangle of plates and rods that formed the relics +of that half of the vessel. + +The dhow was brought up cautiously, with the lead constantly going, +and in eight fathoms the reis gave the order to anchor by Henninger’s +direction. + +“We’ll find a better anchorage on the lee side of the island,” +remarked the chief, “but it’ll be dark in an hour and we’d better lie +here for the present” + +“Why, aren’t you going to look over the wreck right away?” demanded +Hawke, in surprise. + +“What’s the use? We can’t do anything to-night.” + +“Then I’ll row over there alone. Hanged if I can stay here all night +with maybe a fortune within a couple of hundred yards and not go to +see if it’s there,” said Hawke. + +This speech found an answer in the hearts of all, and Henninger, +outvoted, ordered the dhow’s small boat over the side. Margaret’s +desire to visit the wreck was overruled, and Sullivan preferred also +to remain behind, but the rest of the adventurers rowed themselves +toward the reef. + +The tide was rising and they were able to bring the boat alongside the +wreck, by careful steering. The fragment of the steamer was lying +almost upon her beam-ends, so that it was possible to grasp her rail +by standing up in the boat. The deck was too sharply inclined to stand +on it, however, and was besides deeply covered with the droppings of +sea-birds. The deck-houses were quite gone, great cracks yawned in the +deck-plates, the hatches and companionways were vast gaping holes, +while on the other side the deck seemed to have broken entirely clear +from the side plates. + +“No use in going aboard,” said Bennett, but Hawke scrambled on hands +and knees to the companionway hole, and the rest followed him through +the filth. The stairs were gone, but they slid easily to the deck +below, where, in the low light that entered freely through a score of +yawning gaps in her side, they viewed a scene of ruin even more +depressing than that upon the deck. Not a trace of man’s occupancy was +left. Everything wooden or movable had been swept out by the wind and +sea that had raged through and over the wreck, and they could hear the +water washing hollowly in the hold below. + +There was nothing to tell whether the ship had been visited before +them, and there seemed little possibility of settling this great +question that night “We might as well go back,” said Elliott, after +they had stared at the desolation for a few minutes. + +“No, I’m going to have a look into the hold before I sleep,” Hawke +insisted, and he began to clamber down the cavernous gulf that led to +the interior of the ship. + +Henninger, Elliott, and Bennett meanwhile went back to the deck and +perched precariously upon the broken rail while they waited for their +comrade’s return. Hawke was gone for a long time, however, and at last +a sudden outburst of wild shrieks arose from the bowels of the ship. + +“He must have got caught somewhere and can’t get back,” exclaimed +Elliott, and they returned below hurriedly. They had scarcely reached +the lower deck, however, when Hawke reappeared, dripping wet, with his +face distorted with some emotion. + +“It’s there! It’s there—tons of it!” he cried, and his voice broke on +the words. “Come along! I’ll show you!” + +They tumbled after him at the risk of breaking their necks, for the +iron plates hung in torn flaps, and the ladders were broken or gone. +But at last they peered down the hatch. The light was faint, coming +principally through the great fissures, but they could dimly make out +a heap of miscellaneous freight, cases and hogsheads and crated +machinery that had tumbled against the ship’s side when she heeled, +and now lay in several feet of water. Some of it had actually fallen +through the holes in the bottom that had enlarged with pounding on the +rocks, but the upper articles of the mass showed above water. Hawke +sprang recklessly down upon the pile, and splashed in to his knees. + +“Be careful. You’ll break a leg if you slip on those crates,” +Henninger warned him. + +But Hawke paid no attention. “This is it!” he shouted, his voice +resounding hollowly in the hold. He struck his hand upon a wooden box +about three feet in diameter. “It’s stencilled with that corned beef +mark, and it’s heavy as lead. You can’t stir it. See!” He strained at +the case, which refused to move. + +“Bennett, please row back to the dhow and bring an axe and a lantern,” +Henninger ordered, coolly. “We’ll see what’s in that box. And don’t +say anything to them aboard. We don’t want to raise their +expectations.” + +Bennett must have rowed at racing speed, though the fifteen minutes of +his absence seemed an hour to those who awaited him. All four men then +descended upon the pile of unsteady freight, where the lantern light +showed that the case in question was indeed marked with a stencil that +Bennett remembered. But this time the box might really contain corned +beef. + +The steel would show, and Hawke attacked the case with the axe. It was +strongly made and bound with iron, while its water-soaked condition +made it the more difficult to cut, but he presently succeeded in +wrenching off a couple of boards. The interior was stuffed with hay. + +Hawke thrust his arm into the wet packing, and burrowed furiously +about. Presently he withdrew it—and hesitated before he exposed his +discovery to the light of the lantern. He held an oblong block of +yellow metal. + +“God!” said Bennett. + +They all stared as if hypnotized by the small shining brick that shone +dully in the unsteady light. Then Bennett flung himself upon the case +and began to rip out the hay in armfuls, swearing savagely when it +resisted. + +“Here, stop that! Stop it, I say!” cried Henninger. “We don’t want +that case gutted—not now.” + +He put a powerful hand on Bennett’s shoulder, and dragged him back. +Bennett wheeled with a furious glare, that slowly cooled as it met +Henninger’s steady gaze. Elliott was reminded of the end of the +roulette game at Nashville. + +“We must leave it packed,” the chief continued. “We don’t want to go +back to the dhow with a lot of loose gold bricks for all the crew to +see. We’ll have to trans-ship the cases whole. Is this the only corned +beef box?” + +They found another heavy case bearing the same stencil and half-buried +among the freight under a foot of water. There were no more in sight, +though others might have been invisible among the débris. Apparently +only a small portion of the treasure had been shipped in the +after-hold, but the discovery of any of it proved conclusively that no +man had visited the wreck before them. As they rowed back to the dhow +they were strangely silent, and Elliott, feeling slightly dazed and +drunken, understood their taciturnity. + +“Congratulations, Miss Laurie,” said Henninger, as he climbed over the +rail. “You’ll be an heiress to-morrow.” + +“Was it there?” faltered Margaret; and Henninger handed her the golden +brick, after a cautious glance around the deck. She came near dropping +it when she took it in her hands. + +“How heavy it is!” she exclaimed. “How much is it worth?” + +“Two or three thousand dollars,” replied Henninger. + +Margaret gave a little gasp. “Here, take it.” She thrust it back to +Henninger. “I’m almost afraid of it. I never had so much money in my +life at once. I can’t imagine that it’s really true. I hoped, +but—please don’t look. I believe I’m going to cry!” + +She turned aside and did cry quietly for a couple of minutes, with her +head on the rail, while the men preserved an embarrassed silence. + +“I’m better now,” she said, wiping her eyes. “I’m ashamed to be so +silly, but it was the excitement, and the waiting, and the success, +and—everything. What are we going to do now?” + +“We can’t do anything more to-night,” returned Henninger. “We must +have light to locate the rest of the stuff, for it’s mostly in the +lagoon, you know. At least, we suppose so, for we only found two cases +on the wreck. Bennett says he counted twenty-three cases in the +forehold, and that will all have to be got by diving. We might get out +our diving apparatus to-night and rig the derrick.” + +There was not much sleep on the _Omeyyah_ that night. The diving +armour was brought up from the hold, cleaned and oiled, and the +air-tubes tested. They mounted the air-pump between decks with its big +driving-wheels, adjusted the manometer, coiled the life-line, and made +everything ready for the descent. The impromptu derrick was also set +up, consisting of a strong spar forty feet long hinged in an iron +socket at the foot of the mizzen-mast, with a block and tackle at the +extremity and a geared crank at the base. As it was not likely that +the cases of hay and gold would weigh over two or three hundred +pounds, this rude apparatus would be sufficient to hoist them aboard. +Henninger meanwhile cleared out the room that had been prepared below +for the reception of the treasure. This was a corner of the +after-cabin, partitioned off by three-inch planks, totally dark, and +entered only by a low and narrow door fastened with four heavy iron +bars, each locked into its socket with a Yale lock. The after part of +the dhow had been bulkheaded off from the forward portion with heavy +planks, so that no man could gain access to the cabin except by the +cabin ladder on the quarter-deck. + +These preparations were finished by two o’clock in the morning, +however, and there was nothing then to do but wait for daylight. A +cool air breathed on the sea, though scarce a breeze stirred; the +stars were white fire in the velvet sky, with the hill on the island +rising dark against them. The adventurers lounged about the deck, +talking in low tones, with their eyes ever fixed upon the indistinct +shape of the wreck that lay amid the wash on the surf. But weariness +brought sleep after all, and silence gradually fell upon the deck. + +Elliott was awakened from violent dreams by some one shaking him. He +opened his eyes to find daylight on the sea, though the sun had not +yet risen. + +“Get up,” said Hawke. “We’ve got to make a long day of it.” + +Elliott sprang up, broad awake instantly. The rest of the party were +already astir, and in a few minutes the cook brought them coffee, +canned salmon, corned beef, and biscuits. + +“The first thing is to try to locate the cases that are sunk,” said +Henninger, as they breakfasted hastily. “While we’re at it, we must +see if we can’t find a way to get the dhow into the lagoon. If we +can’t do that, we can’t fish up the chests bodily. We’d have to break +them and bring up the bricks one by one, and I’d rather take almost +any chances than that.” + +“But there must be plenty of water inside the reef,” Hawke remarked. +“The wreck’s sunk almost out of sight, and the dhow only draws four or +five feet, doesn’t she?” + +“That’s so,” said Henninger, gulping down his coffee. “We’ll try it. +And, above all things, don’t any of you say the word ‘gold’ above your +breaths. That’s a word that’s understood in all languages.” + +The meal did not last five minutes, and Henninger, Bennett, and +Elliott descended into the boat and pulled toward the line of reefs in +search of a gap into the lagoon. They rowed nearly half a mile, and +rounded the island to the west, in fact, before they found any opening +in the barrier. Here, however, they came upon a gap quite wide enough +to permit the passage of the dhow, and in the lagoon there was, as +Hawke had estimated, a depth of from one to three and in one spot of +five fathoms. + +They rowed eastward again toward the wreck. The sunken part of the +_Clara McClay_ lay in about twenty feet of water, and had been swept +round till it rested almost at right angles to the other half. It had, +like the stern, toppled abeam, so that the decks lay almost +perpendicular, and about three feet of the side rose above the water. +The funnel was broken off, as well as the masts, and on looking down +through the clear water it appeared that the engines had burst loose +and smashed through the side of the steamer. A medley of wheels, rods, +and cranks were visible, and the bottom was scattered thick with coal. +Otherwise, probably owing to the protection afforded by the water, +this portion of the steamer did not appear to have suffered so +severely as the after half. + +They rowed all around the sunken mass of iron that revealed nothing of +what it might contain. + +“There’s the hatch where I went down,” said Bennett. The hatch was +still closed, and was some eight feet under water. + +“Diving will be the only way to go down there again,” Elliott +remarked. + +“Yes,” said Henninger. “No use looking at it from here. Let’s get the +dhow up alongside.” + +They regained the dhow as the sun rose, and the reis got the _Omeyyah_ +under sail. There was just wind enough to move her, and the boat led +the way and conned her in, through the gap in the reef and across the +lagoon till alongside the rusty bones of the wreck. Here the anchor +dropped with a short cable to keep her from drifting, and as a further +precaution the boat carried a second cable with a kedge anchor, and +fixed it among the rocks of the reef. + +“Now,” said Henninger, when they had returned aboard, “where’s the +diving-suit? I’m going down.” + +“I thought you said you had an Arab expert for the diving,” said +Elliott, in surprise. + +“So we have, but I’m afraid to send him down till I’ve had a look +first. The gold cases may have burst, and you don’t know what sights +he’d see. I don’t trust this crew, so I’m going below myself this +time.” + +“By thunder, I wouldn’t crawl into that wreck in a rubber jacket, not +for a ship-load of gold,” said Bennett, earnestly. “We don’t know +whether the diving-machine works right. Better try it on the dog.” + +Henninger appeared struck by this consideration, but after a little +hesitation he persisted in his purpose. Hawke brought the suit on +deck, the rubber and canvas jacket, the weighted shoes and the copper +helmet, and Henninger accoutred himself under the directions of the +Berber expert. Before the helmet was screwed on, the air-pumps were +tested again, and appeared to be efficient. A couple of Arabs were +stationed in the waist to turn the big wheels that drove the pumps, +and Henninger’s head disappeared inside the helmet with its great +goggle eyes. + +He puffed out remarkably as the air was pumped into the suit, and +Elliott and Hawke assisted him to stagger along the deck, and over the +dhow’s rail. Thence he stepped down upon the uncovered part of the +steamer, and slid down the sloping deck till he was entirely +submerged. A string of bubbles began to arise. + +Every one on board, except the men at the pumps, lined the rail and +watched him eagerly. He checked himself at the hatch, looked up and +waved his hand. Then he attacked the hatch with a small axe, and after +a few minutes’ chopping and levering it gave way, and he wrenched the +cover off. It sunk slowly, being water-logged. There was a square, +black hole, and after peering into it for a few seconds Henninger +slipped inside and vanished. + +The life-line and the air-tube slowly paid out, and the bubbles +sparkled up intermittently from the hatch. Henninger remained in the +hold for about ten minutes, when his grotesque form emerged like a +strange sea-monster, and he crawled up the slanted deck again, and +came above the water. Sitting on the broken rail of the steamer, he +shouted to them, but his voice came inarticulately through the helmet, +and, seeing his failure, he gesticulated at the derrick. + +“He wants us to lower the grapples,” exclaimed Elliott. He ran to the +crank and touched it, looking at Henninger, and the helmet nodded +affirmatively. + +With the assistance of a couple of the crew, the beam was swung round +over the wreck, and the grappling-hooks lowered. Henninger caught them +as soon as they were within reach, and he descended once more into the +hold, carrying the irons with him. He was out of sight for a longer +period this time, but he reappeared at last, and clambered with +difficulty aboard the dhow. + +“Hoist away,” he said, as soon as the helmet was unscrewed. “I’ve got +one hooked.” His face was much flushed, and he rubbed his eyes +dizzily. + +“What did you find?” queried Hawke, with excitement. + +“All the freight is piled in a heap, higgledy-piggledy, and it’s +pretty dark down there. I made out the cases we want, though, or at +least some of them. I had forgotten that it’s so easy to lift weights +under water. I heaved those crates and hogsheads around like a dime +museum strong man. The irons are hooked on one of them. Let’s get it +up.” + +At the word the Arabs at the crank began to revolve the handles. The +long spar rose, and an iron-bound, wooden packing-case, about three +feet in diameter, appeared at the hatch, and swung dripping out of the +water. The dhow heeled slightly at its weight. + +“Inboard,” commanded Henninger, and the reis translated the order. The +beam was swung around till the case hung directly over the after +hatchway of the dhow, and, being lowered, it descended accurately out +of sight. + +Every one rushed down the ladder to look at it as it lay in the centre +of a widening pool on the planking, with the grapples still fast. But +there was nothing to see; the markings on the box had been almost +obliterated by water, though the false stencil could still be made +out. On the other side letters had been painted with a black brush, +presumably the forwarding directions, but nothing could be made of +them. Hawke went out and returned with an axe, but Henninger checked +him. + +“Why, aren’t you going to open it?” said Hawke, staring. + +“Better not. We know well enough what’s in it. We’ve got to hurry, +work day and night, and get away from here as quick as ever we can.” + +“Oh, confound it! We’ll have to open one of them, anyway. We may have +made a mistake. Aren’t we going to see any of the plunder?” exclaimed +Elliott and Hawke, and Margaret added her entreaty. + +“All right, go ahead,” Henninger gave in. “Open it carefully, though, +for we’ll want to close the box again. Sullivan, please keep an eye on +the hatch to see that nobody looks down.” + +Hawke released the grapples, and they dragged the case into the cabin, +where, with some difficulty, one of the boards of the cover was pried +off. A mass of wet, foul-smelling hay appeared below, and Hawke began +to drag this out upon the floor, where it made a great pool of +sea-water. + +The hay was packed very tightly, but in a few seconds Hawke +encountered something solid, and brought it to light. It was a dead +yellow brick of gold, exactly similar to the one already acquired. + +Hawke continued the disembowelling of the case until the floor was +swimming with water and heaped with sodden hay, and the pile of yellow +blocks grew upon the floor. At last the box was empty. + +“Twenty-five,” remarked Henninger, who had been counting them as they +came out. “We might as well weigh them. There are small scales in the +storeroom,”—which Elliott at once fetched. + +The scales, which were not strictly accurate, indicated the weight of +the first brick at a trifle under eight pounds, and the others all +gave the same result. Evidently they had been run in the same mould. + +“The latest quotation for pure gold, as I suppose this is, was +twenty-five dollars an ounce, or thereabouts. At that rate, how much +is each of these bricks worth? Remember, these scales weigh sixteen +ounces to the pound.” + +“Three thousand, two hundred dollars,” replied Hawke, after making the +calculation. “The whole case will total up—let me see—eighty thousand +dollars!” + +“I counted twenty-three cases in the forehold, and there are two at +least in the after-hold,” said Bennett. + +“Two millions,” said Hawke. + +“Two millions!” whispered Margaret, and at her awed tone Hawke burst +into a high-pitched roar of laughter. Bennett caught the contagion, +and then Elliott, and they laughed and laughed, a shrill nervous peal, +till they could not leave off. + +“Stop it!” shouted Henninger. + +“We’ll never have a chance to laugh like this again,” Hawke managed to +ejaculate, and there was a renewed outburst. + +“Brace up. You’re all hysterical!” said Henninger, sharply, and they +gradually regained self-control. “Come,” he continued, “we’ve got to +get the rest of that stuff aboard. Hawke, you and Miss Laurie will +repack that box again just as it was before. Make a memorandum of the +number of bricks in it, and, Miss Laurie, you will keep a tally of the +boxes as they come down.” + +This time, Elliott volunteered to go below, and he donned the +diving-dress, and lumbered over the side. It was easy enough to slide +down the steep slope of the steamer’s deck; in fact, he scarcely knew +when he became submerged, but it required a summoning of all his +courage to jump into the black gulf of the hold. + +He floated down through the water as lightly as a falling leaf, +however, and landed without a jar upon a miscellaneous mass of tumbled +freight. There was a faint green-gold light in the place, and at first +it was hard to distinguish anything, but as his eyes grew more +accustomed to the strange gloom he made out the articles of cargo +distinctly. There were boxes and cases of every size and shape, with +barrels and bales and shapeless things in crates—very much the same +heterogeneous mixture, in fact, as he had seen in the after-hold. + +The air began to buzz in his ears, and according to directions he +knocked his head against the valve in the back of the helmet and +released the pressure. The coolness penetrated through his armour; +and, but for the rubbery taste of the air he breathed, he found the +situation decidedly pleasant, for the depth was too slight to cause +any feeling of oppression. + +He examined the cases, bending his helmet close over them, for it was +not easy to make out their almost erased markings. He found that he +had been standing on one of the gold chests, and he hitched the +tackles to it, astonished to find that he could move its heavy weight +with considerable ease. He signalled through the life-line, and the +case was hoisted up, and disappeared out of his sight. + +By the time the grappling-hooks returned empty upon him he had found +another of the treasure-cases, which he at once sent aloft. He secured +four cases in this way, and sent them up in about twenty minutes; and +then, beginning to feel a slight nausea from the hot, rubber-flavoured +air, he climbed out and made his way aboard the dhow. + +Henninger took his place, and sent up two more cases, making seven +that were stored in the dhow’s cabin. The first one had already been +repacked, and Hawke and Bennett were busy stacking the chests in the +strong-room, lashing each one strongly to ring-bolts to prevent +shifting when the dhow rolled. They opened two more just enough to see +that there was certainly gold in each, and closed them again. The +heavy weight of the cases was evidence of the amount. + +All day long the work went on, under the full blaze of an equatorial +sun. The dhow’s decks ran with water from the dripping chests, and +down below the cabin was flooded, for the boxes were like sponges. +With the exception of Margaret, the adventurers were drenched to the +skin, and the work grew increasingly difficult when it became +necessary to shift the cargo about in the steamer to find the gold +cases. When at last it seemed that all had been taken out, the tally +showed only fifteen in the strong-room, while Bennett had counted +twenty-three in the hold. The missing ones would have to be +discovered, and Henninger went down again to search for them. + +“I wonder what the crew are thinking of all this,” Margaret remarked +to Elliott. He had paused at the entrance to the strong-room where she +was keeping tally in a note-book as the precious cases came aboard. + +“I don’t know what they think. I know what the reis told them,” +returned Elliott. “He told them that we’re wrecking the steamer and +taking out a lot of cases of cartridges for the sake of the brass and +lead. He knows all about it, of course, but the crew would never dream +of so much gold being in her.” + +Margaret shivered a little. “Things have gone almost too smoothly +since we sailed. I felt certain that we would get here in time, and I +was right. But now I feel, I hardly know how, as if something was +going wrong. I wish we could leave the rest of the gold and go away. +We have more than we need now.” + +“Oh, no,” Elliott expostulated. “And there are two more cases in the +after-hold, which won’t be easy to get out.” + +“I have been nearly happy,” she broke out, after a silence, “happier +than I ever expected to be again in my life. I feel almost ashamed of +it, after all that I suffered such a little while ago. I see now that +it was a dreadful thing for me to come on this expedition; I am +surprised that you let me do it. But everybody has been so nice to me. +If I had been the sister of all these men they couldn’t have treated +me with more respect and real kindness. Aren’t you almost glad I came, +after all?” + +“Yes,” said Elliott. He hesitated. “Do you know why I wanted all this +money?” he went on, bending toward her. “It wasn’t for myself.” + +“What, then?” said Margaret, faintly. “No, don’t tell me,” she +exclaimed, “not yet. Let’s be comrades the same as ever, and we +haven’t got the gold yet, anyway.” + +“Then I’ll tell you when we do get it,” Elliott answered; and at that +moment another case came down the hatch, and Bennett followed it, +breaking off the conversation. But the girl’s “not yet” left a glow of +excitement and exultation in Elliott’s heart for the rest of the day. + +Two more of the missing chests were located at last and sent up. A +fourth had been burst; it might have been the very one which Bennett +had opened while imprisoned in the hold, and the contents were +scattered. After some consultation, Elliott went down again and sent +the bricks up in a canvas sack, three at a time, packed in hay to +disguise the weight. By the time this was accomplished, it was near +sunset, and already growing too dark to see in the hold. Henninger +fumed impatiently, but without electric lights it was impossible to +work under water after sunset. Besides, the boxes in the after-hold +could not by any possibility be reached that night. + +Elliott struggled that night between sleepy exhaustion and excited +wakefulness, and the rest of the party were in a similar state. All +night long he could hear frequent movements; a dozen times he started +up anxiously at some sound, only to find that it was the armed guard +over the hatchway, but toward morning he slept heavily for a couple of +hours. + +Work was resumed as soon as a diver could see in the steamer’s hold. +After looking through all the mass of freight, and turning over much +of it with a lever, the missing cases were at last discovered, and one +by one hoisted aboard. + +“Now for the other half of the ship,” said Henninger, turning his eyes +toward the wreck on the reef. “I rather fancy we’ll have to dynamite a +hole in her side—good God!” + +They followed his pointing finger and stood stupefied. Off the +eastward end of the island a small steamer was lying, a faint haze of +smoke drifting from her funnel, and the red British ensign flying at +her peak. + + + + + CHAPTER XVIII. THE BATTLE ON THE LAGOON + + +“How did that ship get so close without our seeing her?” cried +Henninger, fiercely. “Who was on the lookout?” + +It appeared that every one aboard the dhow had been too deeply +interested in the salvage operations, and that nobody had been on the +lookout at all. The chief snatched up a glass and stared long at the +strange vessel, which lay absolutely motionless and perhaps a mile +away. + +“We’d better clear out. She’s a Britisher—as like as not a gunboat,” +Hawke muttered, nervously. + +“Clear out!” snorted Henninger. “She’d overtake us in an hour, with +her engines. She’s got no guns, that I can see. Ten to one it’s our +friends from Zanzibar.” He continued to gaze through the binoculars. + +“By Jove, she’s getting ready to lower a boat!” he exclaimed, after a +minute or two. “Sullivan, please bring up those rifles and open a case +of ammunition. Bring up a case of revolver cartridges, too. Elliott, +tell the skipper to get those anchors up, and bring her around.” + +The strange steamer was indeed lowering a boat which was full of men, +and as it left her side half a dozen dull flashes, as of blued steel, +glimmered in the sun. Sullivan darted below and came up with his arms +full of Mausers, which he stacked against the after-rail. The Arabs +were set to work at the capstan, and the forward anchor was broken +out, but the kedge attached to the reef was allowed to remain for the +present. Without it, the dhow would have drifted upon the island, for +the bright morning was turning cloudy, with a rising breeze from the +southeast. + +There was hurry and excitement upon her decks as she lay head to the +freshening weather, straining at her single cable. The Arabs were +clustered at the bow, talking violently among themselves, and +gesticulating at the mysterious steamer. Henninger watched them with +an air of suspicion, and proceeded to load his revolver, and put a +handful of cartridges in his pocket. Every one followed his example, +and Margaret produced her own pistol, which she had not shown since +the night of her coming aboard. + +“Oh, is there going to be a fight?” she breathed in a tremulous voice, +which her bright eyes attributed to excitement rather than to fright. + +“No. At least, I hope not,” said Henninger. “If there should be, +you’ll go below and stay there, Miss Laurie. You understand?” + +“Look,” she cried, in answer. “They’re waving a white flag.” + +The boat, which had almost reached the barrier reef, had stopped, and +a strip of white cloth was being flourished from her stern. + +“That settles it,” Elliott remarked. “It must be Carlton and Sevier’s +gang. They want to talk to us.” + +“We’ll talk to them, but they mustn’t come alongside us,” responded +Henninger. “We’ll go ashore to meet them. Elliott, will you come with +me? The rest of you had better stand by with the rifles while the +peace conference is going on.” + +Elliott and Henninger accordingly descended into the dhow’s +shore-boat, which swung by its painter, carrying no weapons but their +revolvers. Elliott took the oars, and while he rowed Henninger stood +up and flourished his handkerchief. The other boat resumed its course +at this signal, but was obliged to sheer westward for a quarter of a +mile to find an entrance through the ring of reefs. Elliott and +Henninger had been ashore for ten minutes when the steamer’s party +landed at a point a hundred yards eastward upon the beach. + +The strangers disembarked, nine of them, and seemed to consult +together for a few moments. Two were in Arab dress, but the rest +appeared to be white men of the lowest order, the white riffraff that +gathers in the East African ports, a genuinely piratical crew, and +every man carried his rifle. Finally, two men came forward with the +flag of truce. + +“That’s Sevier all right,” said Elliott, “and Carlton with him.” + +So it proved, and the Alabaman saluted them with a suave flourish, and +without any symptom of surprise. + +“Good mo’nin’, Elliott,” he said. “Ah, I always knew you knew where +this place was. We never ought to have let you go, but we were all +rattled that night, as you’ll remember. I hope you enjoyed your trip +to San Francisco?” + +“Very much, thanks,” said Elliott. “Have you been to Ibo Island?” + +“Yes, we’ve been at Ibo Island. Your slippery old sky-pilot played us +a neat trick on that deal. Only for that, we’d have been here two +weeks ago. Have you all fished up the stuff?” + +“Yes, we’ve got it all aboard,” said Elliott, forgetting the two cases +in the stern on the wreck. + +“But we’ve no time for chat,” Henninger broke in. “My name’s +Henninger, and I’m in a way the leader of this party. What do you want +with us, gentlemen?” + +“I think I met you once at Panama, Henninger,” said Carlton, as +gruffly as ever. + +“Very likely,” returned Henninger. “There are all sorts at Panama. +What do you want now?” + +“We want am even divvy of the stuff.” + +“We could take it all, you know,” put in Sevier, sweetly. + +“I think not. We won’t divide it,” Henninger answered, without +hesitation. + +“What’ll you offer, then?” + +This time Henninger reflected. “I suppose you know as well as we do +how much there is,” he said, slowly, at last. “If my partners agree to +it, I don’t mind offering you two cases, holding about seventy-five +thousand dollars apiece. That will recoup you for your expenses in +coming here.” + +“It won’t do,” said Carlton, firmly. “Is that your best bid?” + +“It’s our only one. Take it or leave it,” replied Henninger, with +great unconcern. + +“We’ve got twenty well-armed men—fellows hired to fight,” hinted +Sevier, “but we don’t want to start trouble.” + +“Your twenty men will certainly cut your throats on the way back, if +you have an ounce of gold,” Henninger remarked. + +“They might, if we hadn’t put the terror into them coming down. +Carlton shot one last week.” + +“You shouldn’t let them get so much out of hand as that. But if you +accept our offer we’ll expect you to put to sea as soon as you have +the stuff. In any case, we can’t allow you to land on the island. You +must keep your distance.” + +“Think it over,” urged Sevier. “We’ll take one-third, and let you go +away with the rest.” + +“No,” said Henninger. + +“Then we’ll take it all,” Carlton abruptly declared, and walked away. +Sevier remained for a moment, looking at Henninger with an expression +of regret, and then turned after his companion. + +“Quick! Into the boat!” hissed Henninger. + +As they pushed off they saw Sevier and Carlton running toward the +landing party, who had dropped out of sight behind the scattered rocks +on the shore. A confused yell of warning came over the lagoon from the +dhow, and, the next instant, half a dozen irregular rifle-shots +banged. Elliott ducked low over the oar-handles. His pith helmet +jumped from his head and fell into the boat with a round hole through +the top; there was a rapid tingling like that of telegraph wires in +the air. + +Instantly the Mausers upon the dhow began to rattle. Henninger ripped +out a curse, and opened an ineffectual fire with his revolver. But the +rifle shots from the dhow were straighter. As he tugged at the oars, +shaking with wrath and excitement, Elliott saw Sevier go down as he +ran, rolling over and over. He was up instantly, but there was a red +blotch on the shoulder of his white jacket, and in a few seconds more +he was under cover with the rest of his party. + +The boat tore through the water, against the wind and waves that were +rising upon the lagoon. The enemy had turned their fire principally +upon the dhow, but still the bullets seemed to Elliott to follow one +another in unbroken succession. He had never been under fire before, +and a wild confusion of thoughts rushed through his mind. The boat, he +thought, was making scarcely any headway, though Henninger had sat +down opposite him and was pushing with all his weight upon the oars. +The missiles zipped past or cut hissing into the water. Twice the +gunwale was perforated, and then, all at once, they were in the +shelter of the dhow’s hull. + +“What are you doing on deck, Miss Laurie? Go below at once,” cried +Henninger, angrily, as he climbed on board. + +The dhow’s company were lying flat on the deck and firing across the +rail, which offered concealment rather than shelter. The crew had +taken refuge in the forecastle, with the exception of the reis, who +had squatted imperturbably on the deck. Margaret was sitting on the +planking behind the mast, with her pistol in her lap. + +“I did go below,” she answered. “But a bullet came right in through +the side of the ship. It’s just as safe here. Wingate!” she exclaimed, +as Elliott came over the rail, “you’re not hurt, are you?” + +“No, of course not. Lie down on the deck,” said Elliott, irritably, +“and put that gun away. You’re liable to hurt some one.” He felt +unaccountably bad-tempered, nervous, excited, and scared. + +“If those fellows get on the top of the hill,” Henninger snapped, +“they’ll be able to keep us off the deck. We’d better—” + +“Can’t we let the dhow drift to the island and capture the whole +bunch?” suggested Bennett. + +“We’d certainly lose a couple of men in doing it,” said Henninger, +more collectedly. “I wouldn’t risk it. What are they doing on the +steamer, Hawke? You’ve got the glasses.” + +“They’re lowering another boat!” Hawke cried. “Four—six—seven men in +her,” he continued, peering through the binoculars. + +“By thunder, they’ll smother us out!” exclaimed Bennett, and the +adventurers looked at one another for a moment in silence. + +“That boat mustn’t land,” said Henninger. “Set your sights for five +hundred yards, and don’t fire until I give the word; then pump it in +as fast as you can. Be sure to hit the boat, if nothing else.” + +The second boat had left the steamer and was being rowed toward the +island at a racing pace, veering to the west, to make the same +landing-place as the other. Henninger, struck by a sudden thought, +turned to the skipper. + +“Abdullah, can any of your men shoot? Bring up three of the best of +them and give them rifles. Take one yourself. We must put that boat +out of business before she touches the shore.” + +The reis went below and brought up three Arabs, who grinned as they +received the rifles, evidently delighted at the honour. The boat was +drawing nearer, still pulling to the west, and the party ashore began +to fire more rapidly to cover the landing. + +“Never mind them,” said Henninger. “Aim at the boat. Now!” + +The six Mausers went off like a single shot, and the Arabs poured in +their fire a second later. There was instant confusion in the boat, +which was just passing through the reef; an oar went up in the air, +and a white streak showed on her bow. As fast as the rifles could be +discharged the dhow’s company fired, thrusting fresh clips into the +magazines when they were empty. The cartridge-cases rattled out upon +the deck, and the rank smelling gas from the smokeless powder drifted +back chokingly. + +“Allah! Allah!” screamed the excited Arabs, as they manipulated their +weapons, shooting wildly in the direction of the enemy. But the +bullets were coming fast from the shore. Elliott again heard strange +sharp sounds whispering past his face. A great splinter flew up from +the rail, and suddenly Sullivan stood up jerkily on the deck. + +“Lie down!” Henninger howled at him, and the adventurer collapsed. The +front of his shirt was covered with bright red blood. Elliott sprang +to his side, dropping his rifle. + +“Sullivan’s hit!” he shouted. + +“Never mind him!” roared Henninger. “Let him alone, you fool. Keep up +the fire.” + +The boat was floating crazily about, with oars dipping in +contradictory directions. Her crew were standing up or lying down, and +firing a few wild shots. + +“I’ll look after him. Go back to your place,” said Margaret, creeping +up beside the fallen man. + +“Get under cover yourself!” cried Elliott, furiously. “You can’t do +anything. Why aren’t you below?” + +But the concentrated, rapid fire had already done its work. The boat +had drifted upon a reef, perforated undoubtedly in a dozen places. She +capsized with a sudden lunge upon the rocks, and her crew went into +the water, where a few swimming heads presently reappeared. + +“Don’t fire at them,” said Henninger, grimly contemplating the +swimmers. “They can’t hurt us; they’ve lost their rifles. How’s +Sullivan?” + +Margaret turned up a pale, frightened face, with eyes that were full +of tears. “I—don’t know,” she faltered. + +Sullivan’s eyes were open, but his face was already pale, and he lay +perfectly motionless on the deck. Henninger ripped open his shirt, +wiped the blood from the wound in the chest, and felt his wrist. + +“Shot through the heart,” he said, laying the arm down very gently. No +one spoke; they all gazed silently at the whitening face. A bullet, +fired from the island, ripped through the sail and plunged viciously +into the bulwark. + +“Elliott, you and Bennett carry him below,” commanded Henninger, +harshly. “No time for mourning now. Miss Laurie, you go below and stay +there. Don’t bunch together like that, the rest of you. We can’t +afford to lose any more men.” + +But for a few minutes the men ashore ceased their fire. When Elliott +came on deck again the smoke had blown clear. The steamer lay immobile +in the offing, heaving upon the roughening sea, and the wrecked boat +was bobbing up and down in the surf, bottom upward. There were no +signs of the fight but the scattered cartridge-cases on the deck, a +few splintered holes in the woodwork and a red smear on the planking. + +Henninger took the glass and carefully scrutinized the steamer, and +then turned his gaze upon the island. + +“I don’t know what they’re up to,” he said, with dissatisfaction. “I +can’t see a hair of them. Either they’re lying mighty close, or else +they’ve slipped around the hill and are climbing to the top. I can see +another boat on the steamer, but I don’t think it’ll try to come +ashore—not till dark, anyway.” + +“But they’ve got nothing but some kind of sporting rifles, burning +black powder,” said Hawke. “Good rifles, but they haven’t near the +range of our Mausers. We could lie off and pepper them, if we could +get to sea.” + +“Yes, we must get out of this lagoon. It’s a regular trap,” said +Henninger. + +“And they’ve got no water on the island,” Bennett remarked. + +At this remark Elliott realized that his throat was parching. He +brought a bucket of water aft, and they all drank enormously. It was +very hot, though the sun was veiled in gray clouds and the sea was +rising under the rising southeast wind, the prevailing wind on the +east coast at that season. + +“There was a rainwater pool on the island when I was there,” Bennett +went on. “I found it very useful. But it may be dry now, and anyhow +it’s at the other end of the island, and they can’t get to it.” + +“Hang it all, why can’t we put to sea and let the rest of the treasure +go?” ejaculated Elliott, sickening at the thought of what the gold had +already cost. + +“Because with that steamer they’d follow us, wear us out, and maybe +run us down,” said Henninger. “But we must get out of the lagoon and +have sea-room as soon as possible.” + +Thud! Something cut through the upper portion of the mizzen-sail and +plunged into the deck. Whiz-z-ip! Another missile hit the barrel of +Bennett’s rifle and glanced away, screaming harshly. Bennett dropped +the gun from his tingling fingers. A third bullet lodged in the mast, +and another ploughed a deep furrow in the rail, and glanced again. + +“Where did that come from?” yelled Hawke; and “Look!” shouted Elliott +at the same moment, pointing shoreward. + +The top of the hill upon the island was crowned with white smoke, and +as they looked three or four fresh puffs of vapour bloomed out and +blew down the wind, with a distant popping report. Zip! Thud! the +bullets sang down and plunged into the planking. + +“They’ve got to the hill. Scatter! Scatter! Lie down!” cried +Henninger, flinging himself flat on the deck. But on the hill not a +man was to be seen. The invaders had stowed themselves so snugly +behind the irregular boulders that not so much as a rifle muzzle +showed, and a plunging fire beat down upon the dhow’s exposed +after-deck. + +“Gee! this is hot!” exclaimed Hawke, as a bullet ploughed the deck not +six inches from his shoulder. + +“Too hot!” said Henninger. “We can’t stay up here.” He jumped up and +dived for the hatch, and the others followed him, crouching low. They +tumbled down the ladder almost in a heap, and found Margaret sitting +on a locker in the cabin beside the door of the strong-room. Six feet +away Sullivan’s body lay, a rigid outline, under a blanket. + +“We’re trapped sure enough!” exclaimed Hawke, breathing heavily. He +went to the stern port-light and looked out cautiously. The window +gave a view of the island, where the concealed marksmen had ceased to +fire, but the steamer could not be seen. + +“The tables are turned. They can starve us out now,” Hawke went on +nervously. + +“Surely not. We can get to sea, can’t we, Henninger?” said Elliott. + +“I don’t know,” replied Henninger, abstractedly. He was looking +through the port, and he finally thrust his head out to look at the +steamer. “Look out!” he cried, dodging inside again with agility. + +He had drawn another volley from the watchful rifles on the hill, but +the stern timbers of the dhow were thick enough to keep out the lead, +and no bullet entered the port. Two or three shots came crashing down +through the deck, splintering the under side of the planking, but +doing no further damage. + +“They’re determined to keep us smothered,” said Hawke. + +For perhaps fifteen minutes there was a lull, and then a man stood up +on the hill waving a white streamer, and began to descend. He reached +the shore, boarded the boat, and began to row out with some +difficulty, but apparent fearlessness. He was easily recognizable +through the glass, and when he was within a hundred yards Henninger +hailed him. + +“Don’t come any nearer, Carlton. What do you want?” + +“We’ll give you one-third and let you go,” shouted Carlton, standing +up in the plunging boat. + +“You’ll get all of it, or none,” answered Henninger, and without +another word Carlton rowed himself back to shore. + +“Serve him right to take a shot at him,” muttered Hawke, handling his +rifle. + +“No, don’t do that,” said Elliott. “Let’s fight fair, if we are in a +close corner.” + +But the fighting was delayed. For hours deep peace brooded over the +island, while the whitecaps grew, crashing upon the reef, and the dhow +strained at her single cable. The steamer was invisible, owing to her +position, but she blew her whistle several times in a curious fashion, +to which answer was made by the wigwagging of a white cloth just +visible above the crest of the hill. + +“They’re plotting something. I wish I knew what it was,” Henninger +said, anxiously, searching the hill with the glass. + +“The reis thinks the cable won’t hold if the weather freshens much +more,” said Bennett, who had been conversing with the skipper. “If it +breaks we’ll drift on the island, and they’ll sure have us.” + +“Don’t borrow trouble,” said Elliott. + + + + + CHAPTER XIX. THE SECOND WRECK + + +But the kedge cable held nobly, while the long afternoon passed slowly +away, though its straining could be felt in every part of the vessel, +and it twanged and hummed taut as a violin string. There were no +provisions of any sort in the cabin, and, toward evening, Elliott +undertook to go forward along the deck to obtain something from the +galley. There had been no firing for hours, but the garrison of the +hilltop then demonstrated their vigilance. Before Elliott’s body was +out of the hatch the distant rifles were snapping, and so sharp a +fusilade was opened that he had to go back. Finally, Henninger cut a +hole in the bulkhead with an axe, through which food was passed by the +crew. The Mussulmans in the forecastle were quietly smoking or +sleeping away the hours, apparently totally unperturbed by the fight. +They had nothing to do; it was none of their affair, and they were in +safe cover. + +Late in the afternoon it had rained heavily for half an hour, and the +sun went down in a bank of clouds. It was perfectly dark in fifteen +minutes, and there was every prospect of a rough night. The surf +crashed upon the reef, sending showers of spray over the _Clara +McClay’s_ wreck, and occasionally deluging the dhow. The rigging +hummed and tingled like the cable, but the breeze appeared to be +shifting to the east, for the dhow was drifting to westward, and +across the gap in the barrier reef. + +In the safety of the darkness the whole party returned to the deck to +escape the stifling air of the cabin. The sky was clouded inky black, +and intermittent dashes of rain mingled with the spatter of the spray. +In the darkness to the eastward gleamed the red starboard light of the +steamer, with a white riding-light at her masthead. Complete darkness +covered the island and the hill; it was impossible to ascertain +whether the landing party were still there or whether they had +returned aboard their ship. + +Hawke fired an experimental shot at the island, but there was no +reply. The night seemed full of mystery and invisible danger, and it +was hot and oppressive, in spite of rain and wind. The dhow plunged +and quivered as she tugged at her restraining cable, that seemed as if +it must break at every lurch. But it held firmly for a whole anxious +hour, when a heavier downpour of rain sent the adventurers below again +for shelter. + +The possibility of getting to sea was debated, but it seemed too +dangerous an attempt in the face of the foul weather and the southeast +wind. But the enforced truce and suspense was more harassing to the +nerves than any actual conflict could have been. The lamp swinging +wildly from the ceiling lit up the cabin with a smoky yellow light; on +one side lay Sullivan’s corpse under the gray blanket, seeming, +Elliott fancied, to chill the room with its presence; on the other +side was the locked and iron-barred door to the gold for which the +adventurer had died. The rifles stood stacked in a corner, and the men +gathered near the port-hole for the sake of air, and discussed the +situation till their ideas were exhausted. After an hour or so, in +sheer nervous despair, Henninger and Bennett took to playing seven-up +on the floor, and Elliott presently took a hand in the game. He played +mechanically, paying no attention to the score, hardly knowing what he +did, and seeing the faces of the cards with eyes that scarcely +recognized them. Margaret sat on the locker and seemed to doze a +little; while Hawke prowled restlessly about, now looking over the +shoulders of the card-players, now peering through the port, and now +climbing half-way up the ladder to the deck. + +“It’s stopped raining,” he reported, after one of these ascents. +“Looks as if it might clear up.” A few minutes later he went up again. +They heard his feet on the planking overhead, and then a startled +shout. + +“The steamer!” + +Henninger dropped his cards, and dashed up the ladder, with Elliott +and Bennett at his heels. “What about the steamer?” he cried. + +“Where is she? What’s become of her?” + +That part of the night where the steamer’s lights had shone was blank. +Henninger whistled, and then swore. + +“She was there ten minutes ago,” Hawke protested. + +“Maybe the wind has blown out her lights. She can’t have cleared out, +can she?” said Elliott. + +“Cleared out? Not a bit of it,” said Henninger. “They’ve doused the +lights themselves. Can’t you see what they’re trying to do? Here, +Abdullah! Can we get to sea at once?” + +The reis glanced gravely at the darkness where the sea roared through +the gap in the reef, and then gravely back to his employer. + +“It is as Allah wills,” he said. “But it cannot be done by men.” + +“But Allah does will it!” cried Henninger, violently. “Call your men +up. We must be outside the lagoon in half an hour.” + +“Great heavens, Henninger! you aren’t going to try to take the dhow +out through the gap in this pitch-dark?” Bennett exclaimed. + +“Yes, I am. We’ve got to do it. Don’t you understand that the first +thing in the morning we’ll be riddled from both sides? Those fellows +are bringing up the steamer in the dark, to lie close off our +position. But I reckon we can do something in the dark, too.” + +“You’ll smash us, sure,” Elliott protested. + +“I know something about sailing, and I’ve seen the Arabs do neater +tricks than that at Zanzibar. We can do it. There’s a chance, anyhow, +and I’d rather see the gold sunk again than have to surrender it in +the morning. Confound it, reis, when are we going to start?” + +The Arab cast another gloomy glance at the reef, shrugged his +shoulders with racial fatalism, and went forward to call up the men. +Henninger dashed below, came up with an axe, and started toward the +bow. + +“Stop! You’re not going to cut that cable. Don’t you know that the +bight’ll fly up and kill you?” shouted Bennett, intercepting him. + +“That’s so. I forgot,” admitted Henninger, pausing. + +“But the whole scheme is mad—suicidal,” Bennett added, angrily. + +“No, let’s get away at any risk!” exclaimed Margaret, who had come on +deck. + +“Halloo, you must go below again,” said Elliott. “Or, wait a moment.” +He cut loose a life-belt and buckled it round her. “Perhaps you had +better stay on deck after all, for as like as not we’re going to the +bottom. Hang on to the dhow if we strike, and don’t let yourself get +carried against the rocks. I’ll look after you.” + +The Arab seamen were stationing themselves about the deck without a +protest of word or gesture against the dangerous manœuvre that was to +be attempted, and Elliott’s courage rose at the sight of their +coolness. The danger of the attempt lay almost wholly in the thick +darkness. The gap was nearly thirty yards wide, and the weather had +shifted so far to the east that the dhow could run out with a wind +abeam, provided that she could hit the gap. But there were no lights, +no steering guides, but the indistinct break in the whiteness of the +surf, and the vague difference in the tone of the breakers where the +reef interposed no barrier. + +The reis took the tiller, and a seaman went forward, picked up the axe +which Henninger had dropped, and scanned the cable narrowly. +Dextrously, carefully, he struck three light blows with the steel, +cutting it partly through, and skipped back out of danger. The dhow +heaved; a sensation of rending ran from the bows throughout her +timbers; and suddenly, with a bang like a gunshot, the cable parted, +and the dhow began to drift rapidly, stern first. + +The reis shouted in guttural Arabic, and sheet and tiller brought her +round. She began to run diagonally toward the island, heading almost +straight for the hill, with the wind abeam. In the bows a seaman cast +a short lead-line incessantly, calling the depth with a weird cry. The +sky was clearing slightly, as Hawke had said, and Henninger had +observed it with a worried expression. The dhow’s spread of white +canvas would be visible in the night where the black hull of the +steamer would remain unseen, and their only chance lay in making open +water and running below the horizon before they were sighted by the +speedier craft. + +After a short tack the dhow went about, and headed back as she had +come. The crucial moment was at hand. The reis stared ahead, stooping +slightly to get a clear view under the sails, though to Elliott’s eyes +the darkness was impenetrable. + +“Those Arabs can see in the dark like cats,” muttered Henninger, at +his elbow. + +The helmsman brought her up a little more into the wind, and shouted +another order. There was a rush of barefooted Moslems across the +heeling deck, and the dhow darted forward, straight for a roaring line +of invisible rocks. + +“What’s that?” called Bennett, sharply. + +Away in the darkness to the east Elliott too had seen a faint glow in +the air and a momentary puff of red sparks blown off and instantly +extinguished. It could be nothing but a flash from the funnel of the +steamer; she must be coming up, and at full speed. But in another +half-minute the dhow would be either in the open sea or at the bottom, +and he gripped the rail with a thrill of such intense excitement as he +had never known in his life. + +For a moment he thought they were going to the bottom. The reef +thundered right under the bows. He had no idea where the gap lay, and +he started instinctively to go to Margaret, bracing himself for the +shock of the smash. A deluge of spray roared over her prow; he +imagined he felt her keel actually scrape, and she came up a little +more into the wind. He caught a glimpse of the ghostly outline of the +rock-staked wreck, whitened with its filth—then there was a wild +plunge, a tumult of waters all round them, and then the shock of the +encounter with heavier breakers, the big rollers outside. Drenched, +dizzy, and half-blinded, Elliott became aware that the dhow was +running more freely to the southwest, and that the surf was booming on +the starboard bow. + +“We’re out!” yelled Henninger. “By Jove, I’ll give the reis an extra +thousand for this!” + +“Look there!” called Hawke, pointing astern. A gust of bright sparks, +such as Elliott had seen before, was driving down the wind, followed +by another, and another. There was a streak of faint glowing haze in +the gloom. + +“They’re after us. They’ve sighted our white canvas!” exclaimed +Henninger. + +“Maybe not. They may be only taking a position off the gap,” said +Elliott. + +No one replied to this suggestion. The adventurers strained their eyes +toward the intermittent flashes of sparks and illuminated smoke from +the still invisible steamer. She must be half a mile away, but the +sparks indicated that she was running at high speed, and she could +readily overhaul them, if indeed their escape had been detected. + +“She’s passed the gap. She’s after us!” said Henninger, after a couple +of anxious minutes. “Bring up the rifles. It’ll come to shooting +again.” + +There was a rush down the ladder to the cabin where the weapons had +been left. When they returned to the deck it was almost certain that +the steamer was really in pursuit. The gusts of flying sparks were +growing continuous; she was forcing her speed, and it seemed to +Elliott that he could almost distinguish her black, plunging hull, and +hear the vibration of her engines above the charge and crash of the +white-topped rollers. + +“Haul in as close to the reef as you can,” commanded Henninger to the +skipper. “We can sail in water where she daren’t go.” + +The leadsman was set to work again, and the dhow steered in close, +perilously close, to the white line of surf. She was rounding the +western end of the island now, running with a three-quarter wind, but +the steamer was cutting down her lead with great strides. The ships +were only a quarter of a mile apart; they were less than that; and now +Elliott could see the volumes of black smoke rolling furiously across +the clearing sky, and now he made out, vaguely but certainly, the dark +bulk of the pursuer. She was following them, running recklessly into +the shoaling water. The jumping throb of her screw beat across the +sea, but she remained dark as midnight, except for the showers of red +cinders flying from her draught. + +Suddenly a dozen lanterns blazed up on board the steamer. She was +scarcely two hundred yards astern, and she seemed to loom like a +mountain above the dhow. Two shadowy figures stood on her bridge, with +tense excitement in every line of the pose as they clutched the iron +railing. In the wheel-house the faint outline of another man showed, +grasping the spokes, illumined by the dim glow of the binnacle lamp. +They heard the crash of the seas on her iron side as she tore ahead; +and, startlingly, a brilliant light was flashed on the dhow from a +strong reflector, and a gigantic voice bellowed at them through a +megaphone. + +“Ahoy! Ahoy! the dhow!” it roared. “Henninger, Henninger, heave to +instantly, or, by God, we will run you down!” + +It was Carlton’s voice that shouted, and Henninger in answer heaved up +his Mauser. “Fire at the wheel-house!” he cried, and all of his party +caught the chance. “Crack! Cr-rack!” the rifles spluttered. Elliott +thought he heard a sharp cry. A couple of wild shots flashed in reply +from the towering deck. The blinding light went out, and in the glow +of the wheel-house Elliott saw the steersman fall, reeling aside, +still clinging to the spokes. + +The steamer sheered violently to starboard. A man leaped from the +bridge to the wheel, but it was too late; she was running too fast, +and was already too close to the reefs. A wild yell rang over the sea, +drowned by a mighty crash and rattle. The steamer had plunged, bows +on, sheer upon the rocks, and lay there under a shower of whitening +spray. + +Elliott had shouted, too, in uncontrollable excitement, but when he +realized the wreck he turned quickly to Henninger. “We must stand by +them,” he cried. “They may go to pieces.” + +The Englishman was leaning on the rail, and looking coolly at the +second victim of the reef. + +“Bring her round, Abdullah,” he ordered, at last. “We’ll see what kind +of a mess they’re in, anyhow.” + +The dhow went about, stood to the south, and came back on the other +tack to the island. The steamer was lying with her bows much higher +than her stern, but she did not seem to pound as she lay. Her steam +was blowing off shriekingly in white clouds in the dark, and a dozen +lanterns were flittering about her decks. + +“Hello—the steamer!” hailed Henninger. “Do you want any help?” + +The hurrying lanterns stood still for a moment, and presently Sevier’s +voice replied, angrily, “No!” + +But in a few seconds he cried again, “Stand by till daylight, will +you? We don’t know how badly she’s smashed.” + +“The worse the better,” Henninger commented. “We ought to run straight +for Cape Town, and let them fry in their own fix.” + +“Good gracious, you wouldn’t do that?” exclaimed Hawke, and Henninger +rather grudgingly assented. The dhow stood off and on all night, while +the sky cleared and the breeze died away toward the approach of dawn. +Daylight revealed the steamer lying with her nose pushed several feet +upon the rough barrier, and her stern afloat. + +“She seems to lie easy enough,” said Henninger, examining her through +the glasses. “I fancy she happened to hit a soft spot, and they’ll +very likely be able to float her off at high tide. It was almost low +water when she struck, wasn’t it?” + +Men were hurrying about her decks, looking over the side, and they +already had a boatswain’s chair slung almost to the surface of the +water, from which a man was examining the position of the bow. As the +dhow approached, a white signal was waved from the bridge, and the +megaphone roared hoarsely again. + +“We want to talk to you. Will you let me come aboard you?” + +“That’s Sevier,” said Elliott. + +“Yes, if you come alone,” Henninger shouted back, and in a few minutes +a boat was got overboard from the steamer, with a red-capped seaman at +the oars, and a man in white clothing in the stern. + +This was indeed Sevier, but scarcely recognizable as the smooth and +well-dressed Southerner as he climbed with difficulty over the dhow’s +rail. His white duck garments were torn, blackened, wet, and muddy. +His face was grimed with powder, unshaven, and reddened with the sun, +and his right arm had the sleeve cut from it and was suspended in +crimson-stained bandages. He had lost his characteristic suavity, and +he glanced savagely about as he stepped upon the deck. + +“This has been a bad business all round,” he said, as Henninger came +forward to meet him. “I’ve come to see what terms you’ll make.” + +“We won’t make any,” replied Henninger. + +“Then we’ll fight it out.” + +Henninger laughed rather harshly. “You can go back and begin as soon +as you like. You make me tired,” he added. “You’ve lost half your men, +you’re fast on the reef, you’re wounded, and yet you try to bluff us. +Don’t you know any better than that? Our weapons have twice the range +of yours. We could take your whole outfit if we thought it was worth +while, and maroon you here—and you want us to make terms to be allowed +to go away in peace. Fight it out, if it suits you. We’ll leave you +here to fight as long as you please.” + +“We’re not so bad as that,” said Sevier. “Our ship’ll float at the +next tide. And there are ten men aboard with rifles, and at this range +they’d clear off your decks in about ten seconds.” + +Henninger glanced quickly at the steamer. + +“Let them fire away then,” he said, tranquilly. + +Sevier turned to his boat, hesitated, and then came back. + +“Will you give us a share of the stuff? Say fifty thousand—twenty +thousand?” + +“Not a hundred. Not one cent.” + +“Look here!” cried Sevier, with sudden passion. “Don’t you drive a +desperate man too far. I won’t try to bluff you. Our men won’t fight +any more, I’ll admit; they’re a lot of dogs. And Carlton’s dead—” + +“Carlton killed?” exclaimed Henninger, taken by surprise. + +“He was shot last night on the bridge, just before she went ashore. He +died in an hour. It don’t matter; he was never more than a brute. But +we can float the steamer in a day or two and make Zanzibar easy, and +I’m ruined, clean, stony broke, and there isn’t anything that I’ll +stick at. I’ll inform the British resident there, and you’ll be +arrested at the first port you touch. You’ll find the Crown’ll claim +that gold pretty quick.” + +“You daren’t do it,” said Henninger, coolly. “You’ve got a record +yourself, and you’ve tried to commit piracy.” + +“I don’t care. For that matter, I can just as easy prove piracy +against you. I’ll see your crowd done up anyhow, and I’d as soon be +jailed as broke.” + +Henninger appeared to reflect, and took a turn up and down the deck. +“I’ll tell you,” he said, finally. “There are two chests of about +seventy or eighty thousand dollars apiece still in the after-hold of +the wreck. We’ve got all the rest, and they were the ones I meant to +give you when I made our first offer. We’ll leave them for you, after +all, and that’ll stake you again.” + +“I’d never get a cent of it,” answered Sevier, sullenly. “We’ve got a +rough crew aboard, and they’re out of all control.” + +“Then—we’ll give you one gold brick, just one. That’ll help you to +some sort of boat, and you can come back again for the rest.” + +“Will you express it to me at Cairo from the first port you touch?” +enquired Sevier, eagerly. + +“Yes, we’ll do that, too. But understand, this isn’t a share, nor yet +blackmail. It’s simply charity—it’s alms.” + +“Confound it, don’t bully him, Henninger,” muttered Elliott, as the +Alabaman flushed darkly. + +“Oh, I can stand it,” said Sevier, containing himself with an obvious +effort. “I’ll take the alms, and say thank you. I’ll look for it at +Cairo.” + +He bowed with an exaggerated flourish, purple with rage and +humiliation, and descended into his boat without another word. The +boat put back toward the steamer, but before it reached her the dhow +was a mile to the southward, on a wide tack toward her home port. + + + + + CHAPTER XX. THE RAINBOW ROAD + + +“What’s your plan for getting home with all this gold, Henninger?” +asked Elliott “I hardly dared to think of that till we’d got away from +the island.” + +It was almost eleven o’clock at night, and the moonlight broke +intermittently from a cloudy sky. The dhow was beating in long tacks +down the Mozambique Channel, with a fresh, warm wind blowing from the +southeast. Elliott was on guard duty at the after-hatch, sitting on an +inverted bucket with a Mauser across his knees; Henninger and Bennett +were lingering about the quarter-deck before turning in, and Hawke +stood sentinel over the door of the strong-room and talked up the +companionway. Day and night two men were always on duty over the +treasure; it had been so ever since the gold had come aboard, and the +system would not be relaxed while the voyage lasted. This would not be +much longer, however, for they were already six days from the latitude +of the battle and wreck, where Sullivan lay in deep water, with three +firebars sewn up in his canvas coffin. + +“We can’t sail this craft to England, let alone to America,” Bennett +remarked. + +In spite of success, a certain depression seemed to have settled upon +them all. Perhaps it was due to the oppressive heat; perhaps it was +the inevitable reaction from excitement and victory. In the faint rays +of the deck lantern Elliott could scarcely see his comrades’ faces, +but by daylight they looked ten years older. + +“This is the plan I had thought of,” replied Henninger, “though I +hardly dared to mention it, as you say, till we had really won out. +We’ll run into Durban and divide the gold on board. Some of it we will +deposit in the banks there; some we’ll deposit in Cape Town, a little +at a time, so as not to attract attention. We can express some of it +to New York, and one or two of us can sail for England on the +mail-steamer and take some of it along. The important thing is to +scatter it, and I think we can get off quite unnoticed, if we are +careful.” + +“Just how much did we make of it?” asked Hawke, from the bottom of the +companion-ladder. + +“One million, seven hundred thousand, and odd,” replied Henninger, in +an uninterested tone. “Nearly three hundred and fifty thousand apiece. +Of course, if we can find anything of any of Sullivan’s relatives +we’ll fix them up with his share.” + +“What are you going to do with your share of it?” Bennett inquired, +curiously. + +Henninger gave a short laugh. “How do I know? Blow it in, I suppose, +in some fool way, and go out looking for more. What I imagine I’m +going to do is to live on it for the rest of my life, but I know +myself better than that. It means an income of say fourteen thousand a +year, doesn’t it? I’ve seen that much put on the turn of a card.” + +“Don’t go and be a fool,” said Elliott “I’ve lived for most of my +years on about one-tenth of fourteen thousand.” + +“And I’ve lived for months on nothing at all. No, it’s no use handing +out nice, sensible motherly advice, for there’s only one kind of life +for me. I’ve got the fever in me, and I’ll be looking for the road to +the end of the rainbow as long as I live, I fancy. Do you remember our +conversation on the Atlantic liner, Elliott? I never said so much for +myself before or since, and I won’t do it now, thanks. Talk to Hawke +and Bennett; they haven’t been on the rainbow road so long.” + +“You said that night that you wanted to win this game so as to get out +of grafting,” Elliott retorted. + +“Well, so I do—only I know I won’t,” said Henninger. + +“Do you know what I’m going to do?” remarked Hawke. “You’ll laugh, but +I’m going to buy a half-interest in a big bee ranch in California. +It’s an ideal life. The bees do all the work, and all you have to do +is to lie in the shade and collect profits once in awhile. You can run +a fruit farm on the side, and there’s big money in it.” + +“That’s what I should like above all things,” said Margaret, who came +aft at that moment. + +“What will you do, Elliott?” queried Henninger, half-ironically. + +“I don’t know,” said Elliott, vaguely, glancing up at the girl, who +leaned against the rail, balancing herself easily as the dhow rolled. +“The first thing is to make sure of getting away with the stuff. +Henninger thinks we had better put in at Durban, Miss Laurie, and +divide the gold and scatter it as much as possible.” + +“What for? Will any one rob us?” asked Margaret, quickly. + +“Yes—the government police,” said Bennett. + +“But I thought—Haven’t we a right to the gold? Isn’t it ours?” + +“Heaven knows it ought to be, after all we’ve gone through,” remarked +Elliott. + +“But isn’t it?” Margaret insisted. + +“You’re not sophisticated enough, Miss Laurie,” said Henninger. +“There’s always a claimant for as much money as this. The gold seems +to have been stolen from the Transvaal government, and it’s certain +that the English government will claim it—if they hear that it’s been +recovered. But we don’t intend that they shall hear.” + +“Then this gold belongs to the English government?” + +“I thought you understood the situation. Legally, perhaps, it does, +but—” + +“Then I shall not take an atom of it,” said Margaret. + +“But you must!” exclaimed Elliott. “We’re injuring no one—” + +“I’m not a thief,” Margaret interrupted again, and walked forward. + +The adventurers looked at one another, disconcerted, and Hawke climbed +up the ladder to look with an alarmed countenance over the deck. + +“She’s got to take it,” said Bennett. + +“Yes, of course she must take her share,” agreed Henninger. “Gad, +she’s the pluckiest woman I ever saw. She’s been a regular brick all +through this thing.” + +“She’ll take it or not, as she pleases,” said Elliott, in an unusually +aggressive tone, and failing to grasp the humour of the situation. + +“Maybe you won’t take any of it yourself,” Hawke satirized. + +“There’ll be all the more for the rest of you if I don’t,” returned +Elliott. + +“The fact is, we’re all getting nervous and morbid,” Henninger +remarked. “A good sleep is the best antidote, and I’m going to turn +in.” + +Bennett also swathed himself in his blanket and sought a soft plank by +the lee rail, with the prospect of being rolled across the deck when +the dhow should go upon the other tack. Hawke retired out of sight +below, and Elliott was left to silence. + +Under the stiffly drawn sails he could see Margaret still leaning over +the bow. Behind him an Arab bore heavily upon the tiller-head, holding +her steady, and it occurred to Elliott that the man could stab him in +the back with the greatest ease. It would not be an unfitting +conclusion for the adventure that was stained with so much blood +already; and he imagined the sudden rising of the Moslem crew, the +brief melée, the flash of pistols and knives, the massacre on the +reeling deck. But he continued to sit on the keg, with his back to the +helmsman, and did not trouble to turn around. + +A yard beneath his feet were nearly two million dollars in hard gold; +the treasure that had spun so much intrigue and mystery over three +continents was in his power at last. But the price had been paid; +there had been blood enough spilled to redden every sovereign or louis +or double-eagle that might ever be minted from the metal. Elliott +fancied he heard the crash of the _Clara McClay_ on the reefs when all +but two of her company had perished. He remembered the revolver drawn +on the platform of the St. Louis train, and the bleeding figure of +Bennett beside the rails. He saw vividly the gambling-rooms; he saw +the missionary reeling back from the red knife; he saw Sullivan with +the widening scarlet stain on his breast, and he heard again the +fierce hail from Sevier’s steamer, and heard the crash as she rammed +the rocks where the _Clara McClay_ had perished months before. And, as +he brooded there in the dark, there arose in him a loathing and a +horror of the gold that had worked like a potent poison in the heart +of every man who had known of it. + +In the whole adventure there was but one period that had left no +bitter taste. He remembered the interlude from the treasure hunt at +Hongkong, and the bungalow on the Peak, where for a month there was +neither the bewilderment of tangled mysteries nor the feverish +excitement of greed. The heat, the rain, the miseries that had +tortured him, he had already forgotten, or he remembered them only +dimly as the discomforts that emphasized more keenly the graceful and +domestic charm of such a home as he had never known before. + +The Arab steersman droned softly to himself as he leaned on the +creaking tiller behind. Margaret had not yet gone to her hammock. He +could see her still at the bow, looking forward over the sweeping seas +in the cloudy moonlight. She thought him a thief; she had as good as +said so; and he watched her, feeling strangely as if everything +depended upon her staying there till he was released from duty. + +Bennett came up at midnight to relieve him, and Elliott went forward +at once. But he could think of nothing in the manner of what he wanted +to say, and after a few commonplaces he fell silent, and they leaned +over the prow together, listening to the sucking gurgle and the +hissing crash as the cutwater split the seas. + +“I want you to see clearly just why I insisted on coming with you,” +said Margaret, breaking the silence at last. “I didn’t understand it +at all, then. My father had spoken of recovering this gold—he couldn’t +have known that it was government money—and I supposed that it was +right to do it. In fact, I felt almost as if he had left it to me. +Then I had no money—nothing. I knew that I was dependent on you for +everything. It was even your money that brought me from China; I know +it was, though the consul said he advanced it to me. It nearly +maddened me with shame, and—I didn’t know what to do. Only I knew that +I couldn’t take anything more from you. I thought I had a right to a +share of this gold, but I couldn’t even let you go and do the work for +me. I had to help, and do my part—and so I did it. + +“But now it’s all over. I understand it all as I didn’t before, and +you see that I can’t take a cent of this money. I should feel myself a +criminal as long as I lived. But I don’t blame you for taking it, if +you feel that you can.” + +“I’m not going to take any of it, either,” Elliott interrupted. + +She was silent for nearly a minute, and then said, in a curious, +almost harsh, voice, “Why not?” + +“Because there are other things I value more—your good opinion, for +instance,” said Elliott, with difficulty, feeling all the painful joys +of renunciation. He wanted to say more; he struggled vainly for words, +but after an ineffectual effort he fell back upon a practical +question. + +“What will you do, then?” + +“I’ve been thinking of that,” she said. “I shall try to get something +to do at the Cape. I can always make a living. I can do almost +anything.” + +“Oh, heavens! You mustn’t do that. You sha’n’t!” groaned Elliott. + +“Why not?” she said, with a smile. “Do you know, it is almost a relief +to have the weight of that terrible treasure taken away. It has been a +sort of curse to every one, I think. But it seems a pity, doesn’t it, +that we should get nothing at all for having worked so hard and +travelled so far and risked so much. The government ought to refund +our expenses, anyway.” + +“Salvage! I should think so!” cried Elliott, smiting his hand on the +rail. “Why didn’t I think of it before? Of course we have a claim for +our trouble and expense, and we can collect it, too, if we turn in our +share of the stuff to the Crown.” + +“But I suppose they would allow us only a trifle, after all,” said +Margaret. + +“Not a bit of it. Twenty to fifty per cent. of the value is always +paid for salvaging a cargo. Your share now is nearly three hundred and +fifty thousand dollars, and at least a hundred thousand of that will +be honestly, lawfully yours. Any court will award it to you.” + +“But will Mr. Henninger—” + +“Henninger and the others will never give up a cent of their share; I +know that. We mustn’t spoil their plans, I suppose, so we will give +them time to get safely clear. Then we will surrender our part of it, +and present our bill for expenses, and say nothing about any more +having been recovered. The Crown will be glad enough to get any of it +back.” + +“This is the best news of all!” said Margaret, with a long breath. “A +hundred thousand dollars! That will be fabulous wealth to me! I can +have all the things, and see all the things, and do all the things +that I dreamed of all my life and never expected to realize. Now I +believe I’m really glad to be rich again. Aren’t you?” + +“I don’t know,” Elliott muttered. + +“I think we ought to try to use this money so as to justify having +it,” Margaret went on. “It has cost so much misery and so many lives, +and I want to spend it so as to make it clean again. I want to make +others happy with it, as well as be happy myself. What are you going +to do with it?” + +“I don’t know,” Elliott burst out. “I don’t value this money, whether +it’s a hundred thousand or a million, not a straw. I’d throw it away; +I’d blow it in, like Henninger—God knows what I’ll do with it. There’s +only one thing that I really want I told you what it was at that hotel +in New York, and you ordered me never to speak of it again. If I can’t +have that I don’t care much what becomes of the money, or of anything +else.” + +“Don’t say that. Don’t speak of that—not now!” murmured Margaret; and +as he hesitated she turned quickly away and slipped toward the stern +companionway. “You won’t lose by waiting,” was what she left in a +semi-audible whisper as she vanished, and Elliott had this to ponder +on as he stood watching the heavy swell rolling blackly toward Africa, +toward Durban, where the dhow was due in another day. + +But it was really two days before she glided up the port and anchored +innocently in the bay, looking anything but the treasure-ship she was. +And now the most harassing, the most anxious and delicate part of the +whole adventure was begun. + +Margaret went on to Cape Town at once, with instructions to secure a +maid in that city as a travelling companion and to sail direct for +London. And in her absence the gold was taken ashore piece-meal, in +pockets and travelling-bags and hat-boxes, and little by little +exchanged for clean Bank of England notes and shiny sovereigns. Over +$150,000 was sold in Durban, and then the party proceeded to Cape +Town, where, following the same procedure, nearly twice as much was +passed over to the banks for specie. + +The rest, Henninger decided, could best be disposed of in America, and +he was, besides, anxious to get out of British territory as soon as +possible. Accordingly the dhow was dismantled, the crew paid off, the +reis given a present of two hundred sovereigns above his salary, and +Henninger, Hawke, and Bennett sailed for New York direct, with a +mountain of trunks, each containing a few gold blocks packed among +unnecessary clothing. And two days afterward Elliott took passage for +England with six hundred and forty thousand dollars, being his own and +Margaret’s share of the cargo of the _Clara McClay_. + +Margaret was prepared for his coming, and between them the treasure +was safely deposited in the bank, at which Elliott felt an incubus +lifted from his mind. The next step was to secure an experienced +marine lawyer to forward their salvage claims. + +This gentleman, after passing through a stage of stupefaction at their +unexampled scrupulosity, advised that a claim of forty per cent. of +the value be made, in consideration of the circumstances of the case. +They made it, and then there was long to wait. Red tape, Treasury +tape, Admiralty tape, civil tape was unrolled to a disheartening +length, and the new Transvaal Crown Colony even put in its claim, as +the original owner of the bullion. In the midst of the delay Elliott +received a message from Henninger: + +“We have disposed of all our goods,” he wrote. “Go ahead and make the +best terms you can. Hawke has gone to California to start his bee +farm, but he thinks he will look into a few mining deals in Nevada +before he gets there. Bennett is playing the races on a system. I am +saving my money at present, but I see a chance to double my money in +Venezuela. The treasure trail is a long trail, and we’re not at the +end of the rainbow yet.” + +And in England Elliott and Margaret were finding the latter stages of +the treasure trail long indeed. The salvage case took a great deal of +deciding; the courts appeared to be convinced that some occult +dishonesty must be concealed beneath the offer to restore any part of +the lost treasure, and haggled over the percentage in a manner, it +appeared to Elliott, highly unworthy of the traditions of a mighty +nation. Ultimately, however, a compromise was arrived at. The +government would pay thirty-three per cent.; and Elliott surrendered +the bullion and received back two hundred and twelve thousand dollars, +which he divided equally with Margaret. Six days later they were at +sea, bound out of Southampton for New York. + +Surely, Elliott thought, this was the last of the long trail, as he +listened to the regular “swish—crash!” on her bows that had become so +odiously familiar; and he determined that all should be settled before +he sighted American land. + +“If I ever get ashore again,” he remarked to Margaret, “I’m going to +the quietest, sleepiest country town I can find, and never set eyes on +a steamer or a railway train again as long as I live.” + +They were looking over the stern, where night had fallen on the +heaving swell. It had rained hard, but was clearing; an obscured moon +faintly lit the sea. + +“And do some sort of good work,” said Margaret. “You’ve got ability, +money, and every chance of a happy life.” + +“It’s in your hands,” Elliott declared, feeling his opportunity. + +“It’s not!” she cried, vehemently. “It’s in your own. You’re too +strong to depend on any one else for your life’s success. I don’t like +to hear that!” + +“Listen,” said Elliott. “You wouldn’t let me say this when you were +poor; perhaps you’ll hear it now when you are rich. I was going to +give up every cent of my share of the gold to try to please you—to do +what you thought was square. I’d have given up the whole ship-load—no, +that’s absurdly small, for there simply isn’t anything in the world, +past, present, or future, that I wouldn’t give up and call it a good +bargain if it would make you care for me a little. The best time I +ever had was when I was luckily able to help you, and now I could +almost find it in my heart to be sorry that you have all you need, and +don’t need me any more.” + +She touched his arm ever so gently, and he turned and looked squarely +at her. + +“Not need you!—you!” was all she said. + +The sudden throb of his heart made him gasp. The deck was full of +people, but he put his hand hard down upon hers as it lay on the rail, +and he felt her fingers curl up into his palm. + +“Be careful,” said she, with a new, subtle thrill in her voice. “Oh, +look!” + +From the clearing sky astern the moon was now pouring a full, glorious +flood upon the heaving Atlantic, where the heavy swell ran in +ivory-crested combers. In the pure white light the foam glittered with +prismatic colours, wave after wave, like a long broken rainbow fallen +upon the sea, and sparkling with the streaks of phosphorescence of the +steamer’s wake. + +“The rainbow road,” as Henninger calls it; “the treasure trail,” said +Elliott. “The trail’s ended.” + +But Margaret shook her head. “No,” she said. “The rainbow road has +just begun.” + + + THE END. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TREASURE TRAIL *** + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the +United States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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Thus, we do not +necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper +edition. + +Most people start at our website which has the main PG search +facility: www.gutenberg.org + +This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/Projects/Web-Scraping/The Treasure Trail b/Projects/Web-Scraping/The Treasure Trail new file mode 100644 index 000000000..df3ba6fd8 --- /dev/null +++ b/Projects/Web-Scraping/The Treasure Trail @@ -0,0 +1,9571 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Treasure Trail, by Frank L. Pollock + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you +will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before +using this eBook. + +Title: The Treasure Trail + +Author: Frank L. Pollock + +Illustrator: Louis D. Gowing + +Release Date: March 13, 2022 [eBook #67627] + +Language: English + +Produced by: Roger Frank and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at + https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from images + made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.) + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TREASURE TRAIL *** + + + + + + THE TREASURE TRAIL + + +[Illustration: “Suddenly Sullivan stood up jerkily on the deck.”] + + + + + The Treasure Trail + + BY + FRANK L. POLLOCK + + With a Frontispiece in Colour by + Louis D. Gowing + + Boston L. C. PAGE & COMPANY + MDCCCCVI + + + + + Copyright, 1906 + By L. C. Page & Company + (INCORPORATED) + + All rights reserved + + First Impression, May, 1906 + + COLONIAL PRESS + Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co. + Boston, U.S.A. + + + + + CONTENTS + + I. The New Leaf + II. The Open Road + III. The Adventurer + IV. The Fate of the Treasure Ship + V. The Ace of Diamonds + VI. The Mystery of the Mate + VII. The Indiscretion of Henninger + VIII. The Man from Alabama + IX. On the Trail + X. A Lost Clue + XI. Illumination + XII. Open War + XIII. First Blood + XIV. The Clue Found + XV. The Other Way Round the World + XVI. The End of the Trail + XVII. The Treasure + XVIII. The Battle on the Lagoon + XIX. The Second Wreck + XX. The Rainbow Road + + + + + THE TREASURE TRAIL + + + + + CHAPTER I. THE NEW LEAF + + +“Lord! what a haul!” Elliott murmured to himself, glancing over his +letter while he waited with the horses for Margaret, who had said that +she would be just twelve minutes in putting on her riding-costume. The +letter was from an old-time Colorado acquaintance who was then +superintending a Transvaal gold mine, and, probably by reason of the +exigencies of war, the epistle had taken over two months to come from +Pretoria. Elliott had been able to peruse it only by snatches, for the +pinto horse with the side-saddle was fidgety, communicating its +uneasiness to his own mount. + +“And managed to loot the treasury of over a million in gold, they say, +and got away with it all. The regular members of the Treasury +Department were at the front, I suppose, with green hands in their +places,” he read. + +It was a great haul, indeed. Elliott glanced absently along the muddy +street of the Nebraska capital, and his face hardened into an +expression that was not usual. It was on the whole a good-looking +face, deeply tanned, with a pleasant mouth and a small yellowish +moustache that lent a boyishness to his whole countenance, belied by +the mesh of fine lines about the eyes that come only of years upon the +great plains. The eyes were gray, keen, and alive with a spirit of +enterprise that might go the length of recklessness; and their owner +was, in fact, reflecting rather bitterly that during the past ten +years all his enterprises had been too reckless, or perhaps not +reckless enough. He had not had the convictions of his courage. The +story of the stealings of a ring of Boer ex-officials had made him +momentarily regret his own passable honesty; and it struck him that in +his present strait he would not care to meet the temptation of even +less than a million in gold, with a reasonable chance of getting away +with it. + +This subjective dishonesty was cut short by Margaret, who hurried down +the veranda steps, holding up her brown riding-skirt. She surveyed the +pinto with critical consideration. + +“Warranted not to pitch,” Elliott remarked. “The livery-stable man +said a child could ride him.” + +“You’d better take him, then. I don’t want him,” retorted Margaret + +“This one may be even more domestic. What in the world are you going +to do with that gun?” + +“Don’t let Aunt Louisa see it; she’s looking out the window,” implored +Margaret, her eyes dancing. “I want to shoot when we get out of town. +Put it in your pocket, please,—that’s against the law, you know. +You’re not afraid of the law, are you?” + +“I am, indeed. I’ve seen it work,” Elliott replied; but he slipped the +black, serviceable revolver into his hip pocket, and reined round to +follow her. She had scrambled into the saddle without assistance, and +was already twenty yards down the street, scampering away at a speed +unexpected from the maligned pinto, and she had crossed the Union +Pacific tracks before he overtook her. From that point it was not far +to the prairie fields and the barbed-wire fences. The brown Nebraska +plains rolled undulating in scallops against the clear horizon; in the +rear the great State House dome began to disengage itself from a mass +of bare branches. The road was of black, half-dried muck, the potent +black earth of the wheat belt, without a pebble in it, and deep ruts +showed where wagons had sunk hub-deep a few days before. + +A fresh wind blew in their faces, coming strong and pure from the +leagues and leagues of moist March prairie, full of the thrill of +spring. Riding a little in the rear, Elliott watched it flutter the +brown curls under Margaret’s grey felt hat, creased in rakish +affectation of the cow-puncher’s fashion. Now that he was about to +lose her, he seemed to see her all at once with new eyes, and all at +once he realized how much her companionship had meant to him during +these past six months in Lincoln,—a half-year that had just come to so +disastrous an end. + +Margaret Laurie lived with her aunt on T Street, and gave lessons in +piano and vocal music at seventy-five cents an hour. Her mother had +been dead so long that Elliott had never heard her mentioned; the +father was a Methodist missionary in foreign parts. During the whole +winter Elliott had seen her almost daily. They had walked together, +ridden together, skated together when there was ice, and had fired off +some twenty boxes of cartridges at pistol practice, for which +diversion Margaret had a pronounced aptitude as well as taste. She had +taught him something of good music, and he confided to her the +vicissitudes of the real estate business in a city where a boom is +trembling between inflation and premature extinction. It had all been +as stimulating as it had been delightful; and part of its charm lay in +the fact that there had always been the frankest camaraderie between +them, and nothing else. Elliott wished for nothing else; he told +himself that he had known enough of the love of women to value a +woman’s friendship. But on this last ride together he felt as if +saturated with failure—and it was to be the last ride. + +Margaret broke in upon his meditations. “Please give me the gun,” she +commanded. “And if it’s not too much trouble, I wish you’d get one of +those empty tomato-cans by the road.” + +“You can’t hit it,” ventured Elliott, as he dismounted and tossed the +can high in the air. The pistol banged, but the can fell untouched, +and the pinto pony capered at the report. + +“Better let me hold your horse for you,” Elliott commented, with a +grin. + +“No, thank you,” she retorted, setting her teeth. “Now,—throw it up +again.” + +This time, at the crack of the revolver, the can leaped a couple of +feet higher, and as it poised she hit it again. Two more shots missed, +and the pinto, becoming uncontrollable, bolted down the road, +scattering the black earth in great flakes. Elliott galloped in +pursuit, but she was perfectly capable of reducing the animal to +submission, and she had him subjected before he overtook her. + +“It’s easier than it looks,” Margaret instructed him, kindly. “You +shoot when the can poises to fall, when it’s really stationary for a +second.” + +“Thank you—I’ve tried it,” Elliott responded, as they rode on side by +side, at the easy lope of the Western horse. The wind sang in their +ears, though it was warm and sunny, and it was bringing a yellowish +haze up the blue sky. + + “‘Weh, weh, der Wind!’” + +hummed Margaret, softly. + + “‘Frisch weht der Wind der Heimath zu; + Mein Irisch Kind, wo weilest Du——?’” + +“What a truly Western combination,—horses, Wagner, and gun-play!” +remarked Elliott. + +“Of course it is. Where else in the world could you find anything like +it? It’s the Greek ideal—action and culture at once.” + +“It may be Greek. But I know it would startle the Atlantic coast.” + +“I don’t care for the Atlantic coast. Or—yes, I do. I’m going to tell +you a great secret. Do you know what I’ve wanted more than anything +else in life?” + +“Your father must be coming home from the South Seas,” Elliott +hazarded. + +“Dear old father! He isn’t in the South Seas now; he’s in South +Africa. No, it isn’t that. I’m going to Baltimore this fall to study +music. I’ve been arguing it for weeks with Aunt Louisa. I wanted to go +to New York or Boston, but she said the Boston winter would kill me, +and New York was too big and dangerous. So we compromised on +Baltimore.” + +“Hurrah!” said Elliott, with some lack of enthusiasm. “Baltimore is a +delightful town. I used to be a newspaper man there before I came West +and became an adventurer. I wish I were going to anything half so +good.” + +“You’re not leaving Lincoln, are you?” she inquired, turning quickly +to look at him. + +“I’m afraid I must.” + +“When are you going, and where?” she demanded, almost peremptorily. + +“I don’t exactly know. I had thought of trying mining again,” with a +certain air of discouragement. + +Margaret looked the other way, out across the muddy sheet of water +known locally as Salt Lake, where a flock of wild ducks was fluttering +aimlessly over the surface; and she said nothing. + +“I suppose you know that the bottom’s dropped out of the land boom in +Lincoln,” Elliott pursued. “I’ve seen it dropping for a month; in +fact, there never was any real boom at all. Anyhow, the real estate +office of Wingate Elliott, Desirable City Property Bought and Sold, +closed up yesterday.” + +“You don’t mean that you have—” + +“Failed? Busted? I do. I’ve got exactly eighty-two dollars in the +world.” + +She began to laugh, and then stopped, looking at him +half-incredulously. + +“You don’t appear to mind it much, at least.” + +“No? Well, you see it’s happened so often before that I’m used to it. +Good Lord! it seems to me that I’ve left a trail of ineffectual +dollars all over the West!” + +“You do mind it—a great deal!” exclaimed Margaret, impulsively putting +a hand upon his bridle. “Please tell me all about it. We’re good +friends—the very best, aren’t we?—but you’ve told me hardly anything +about your life.” + +“There’s nothing interesting about it; nothing but looking for easy +money and not finding it,” replied Elliott. He was scrutinizing the +sky ahead. “Don’t you think we had better turn back? Look at those +clouds.” + +The firmament had darkened to the zenith with a livid purple tinge low +in the west, and the wind was blowing in jerky, powerful gusts. A +growl of thunder rumbled overhead. + +“It’s too early for a twister, and I don’t mind rain. I’ve nothing on +that will spoil,” said Margaret, almost abstractedly. She had scarcely +spoken when there was a sharp patter, and then a blast of drops driven +by the wind. A vivid flash split the clouds, and with the +instantaneous thunder the patter of the rain changed to a rattle, and +the black road whitened with hail. The horses plunged as the hard +pellets rebounded from hide and saddle. + +“We must get shelter. The beasts won’t stand this,” cried Elliott, +reining round. The lumps of ice drove in cutting gusts, and the +frightened horses broke into a gallop toward the city. For a few +moments the storm slackened; then a second explosion of thunder seemed +to bring a second fusilade, driving almost horizontally under the +violent wind, stinging like shot. + +Across an unfenced strip of pasture Elliott’s eye fell upon the Salt +Lake spur of the Union Pacific tracks, where a mile of rails is used +for the storage of empty freight-cars. He pulled his horse round and +galloped across the intervening space, with Margaret at his heels, and +in half a minute they had reached the lee of the line of cars, where +there was shelter. He hooked the bridles over the iron handle of a +box-car door that stood open, and scrambled into the car, swinging +Margaret from her saddle to the doorway. + +It was a perfect refuge. The storm rattled like buckshot on the roof +and swept in cloudy pillars across the Salt Lake, where the wild ducks +flew to and fro, quacking from sheer joy, but the car was clean and +dry, slightly dusted with flour. They sat down in the door with their +feet dangling out beside the horses, that shivered and stamped at the +stroke of chance pellets of hail. + +“This is splendid!” said Margaret, looking curiously about the planked +interior of the car. “Why do you want to leave Lincoln?” she went on +in a lower tone, after a pause. + +“I don’t want to leave Lincoln.” + +“But you said just now—” + +“It seems to me, by Jove, that I’ve done nothing but leave places ever +since I came West!” Elliott exclaimed, impatiently. “That was ten +years ago. I came out from Baltimore, you know. I was born there, and +I learned newspaper work on the _Despatch_ there, and then I came West +and got a job on the Denver _Telegraph_.” + +“At a high salary, I suppose.” + +“So high that it seemed a sort of gold mine, after Eastern rates. But +it didn’t last. The paper was sold and remodelled inside a year, and +most of the reporters fired. I couldn’t find another newspaper job +just then, so I went out with a survey party in Dakota for the winter +and nearly froze to death, but when I got back and drew all my +accumulated salary, I bought a half-interest in a gold claim in the +Black Hills. Mining in the Black Hills was just beginning to boom +then, and I sold my claim in a couple of months for three thousand. I +made another three thousand in freighting that summer, and if I had +stayed at it I might have got rich, but I came down to Omaha and lost +it all playing the wheat market. I had a sure tip.” + +“Six thousand dollars! That’s more money than I ever saw all at once,” +Margaret commented. + +“It was more money than I saw for some time after that; but that’s a +fair specimen of the way I did things. Once I walked into Seattle +broke, and came out with four thousand dollars. I cleaned up nearly +twenty thousand once on real estate in San Francisco. Afterwards I +went down to Colorado, mining. I could almost have bought up the whole +Cripple Creek district when I got there, if I had had savvy enough, +but I let the chance slip, and when I did go to speculating my capital +went off like smoke. The end of it was that I had to go into the mines +and swing a pick myself.” + +“You were game, it seems, anyway,” said Margaret, who was listening +with absorbed interest. The sky was clearing a little, and the hail +had ceased, but the rain still swept in gusty clouds over the brown +prairie. + +“I had to be. It did me good, and I got four dollars a day, and in six +months I was working a claim of my own. By this time I thought I was +wise, and I sold it as soon as I found a sucker. I got ten thousand +for it, and I heard afterwards that he took fifty thousand out of it.” + +“What a fraud!” cried Margaret, indignantly. + +“Anyhow, I bought a little newspaper in a Kansas town that was just +drawing its breath for a boom. I worked for it till I almost got to +believe in that town myself. At one time my profits in corner lots and +things—on paper, you know—were up in the hundreds of thousands. In the +end, I had to sell for less than one thousand, and then I came to +Lincoln and worked for the paper here. That was two years ago, when I +first met you. Do you remember?” + +“I remember. You only stayed about four months. What did you do then?” + +“Yes, it seemed too slow here, too far east. I went back to North +Dakota, mining and country journalism. I did pretty well too, but for +the life of me I don’t know what became of the money. After that I +did—oh, everything. I rode a line on a ranch in Wyoming; I worked in a +sawmill in Oregon; I made money in some places and lost it in others. +Eight months ago I had a nice little pile, and I heard that there was +a big opening in real estate here in Lincoln, so I came.” + +“And wasn’t there an opening?” + +“There must have been. It swallowed up all my little pile without any +perceptible effect, all but eighty-two dollars.” + +“And now—?” + +“And now—I don’t know. I was reading a letter just now from a man I +know in South Africa telling of a theft of a million in gold from the +Pretoria treasury during the confusion of the war. Do you know, I +half-envied those thieves; I did, honour bright. A quick million is +what I’ve always been chasing, and I’d almost steal it if I got the +chance.” + +“You wouldn’t do any thing of the sort. I know you better than that. +You’re going to do something sensible and strong and brave. What is it +to be?” + +“But I don’t know,” cried Elliott. “There are heaps of things that I +can do, but I tell you I feel sick of the whole game. I feel as if I’d +been wasting time and money and everything.” + +“So you have, dear boy, so you have,” agreed Margaret. “And now, if +you’d let me advise you, I’d tell you to find out what you like best +and what you can do best, and settle down to that. You’ve had no +definite purpose at all.” + +“I have. It was always a quick fortune,” Elliott remonstrated. “I’ve +got it yet. There are plenty of chances in the West for a man to make +a million with less capital than I’ve got now. This isn’t a country of +small change.” + +“Yes, I know. I’ve heard men talk like that,” said Margaret, more +thoughtfully. “But it seems to me that you’ve been doing nothing but +gamble all your life, hoping for a big haul. Of course, I’ve no right +to advise you. Nebraska is all I know of the world, but I don’t like +to think of you going back to the ‘game,’ as you call it. Do you know +that it hurts me to think of you making money and losing it again, +year after year, and neglecting all your real chances? Too many men +have done that. A few of them won, but nobody knows where most of them +died. There are such chances to do good in the world, to be happy +ourselves and make others happy, and when I think of a man like my +father—” + +“You wouldn’t want me to go to Fiji as a missionary?” Elliott +interrupted. He was shy on the subject of her father, whom Margaret +had seen scarcely a dozen times since she could remember, but who was +her constant ideal of heroism, energy, and virtue. + +“Of course not. But don’t you like newspaper work?” + +“I like it very much.” + +“And isn’t it a good profession?” + +“Very fair, if one works like a slave. That is, I might reach a salary +of five thousand dollars a year. The best way is to buy out a small +country daily and build it up as the town grows. There’s money in that +sometimes.” + +“Why not do it, then? It’s not for the sake of the money. I hate +money; I’ve never had any. But I don’t believe any one can be really +happy after he’s twenty-five without a definite purpose and a kind of +settled life. Some day you’ll want to marry—” + +“Don’t say that. I’ve been a free lance too long!” cried Elliott. + +“I’ve always been afraid of matrimony, too,” said Margaret, with a +quick flush. “I want my own life, all my own.” + +“But what you say is right, dead right,” said Elliott, after a +reflective pause that lasted for several minutes. “It’s just what my +own conscience has been telling me.” He stopped to meditate again. + +“I’ll tell you what I think I’ll do,” he proceeded, at last. “I’ll go +over to Omaha and look for a job on one of the dailies there. I expect +I can get it, and it’ll give me time to think over my plans. + +“You’re not going East till fall, and I can run across here often, so +that I’ll be able to see you. I may go East this fall myself. You’ve +just crystallized what I’ve been thinking. I will do something to +surprise you, and I’ll make a fortune with it. Will you shake hands on +it?” + +She pulled off the riding-gauntlet and put out her hand, meeting his +eyes squarely. The deep flush still lingered in her cheeks. + +“We _are_ good friends,” he exclaimed, feeling a desire to say +something, he scarcely knew what. + +“The very best!” said Margaret, looking bright-eyed at him. “I hope we +always will be. Come,” she cried, pulling her hand away. “The storm’s +over. Let’s go back.” + +The rain had made the road very sticky, and they rode slowly side by +side, while Margaret chattered vivaciously of her own future, of her +music, of the coming winter in the East. She was full of plans, and +Elliott sunk his own perplexities to share in her enthusiasm. He was +himself imbued with the cheerfulness that comes of good resolutions, +whose difficulties are yet untried. + +“When are you going to Omaha?” she asked him, as he left her at the +gate. + +“In a couple of days. I’ll see you, of course, before I go.” + +He packed his two trunks that night. He did not see her again, +however, for she happened to be out when he called to make his +farewell. He was unreasonably annoyed at this disappointment, and +thought of delaying his departure another day, but he was afraid that +she would consider it weak. Anyhow, he expected to be back in Lincoln +within a fortnight, and he left that night for Omaha. + +The next couple of days he spent in a round of visits to the offices +of the various Omaha newspapers. He found every staff filled to its +capacity. There was a prospect of a vacancy in about a month, but it +was too long to wait, and, happening to hear that the St. Joseph +_Post_ was looking for a new city editor, he went thither with a +letter of introduction from the manager of the Omaha _Bee_. + + + + + CHAPTER II. THE OPEN ROAD + + +“That’s number eighteen, and the red,” said the croupier behind the +roulette-table, raking in the checks that the player had scattered +about the checkered layout. Round went the ball again with a whirr, +though there were no fresh stakes placed. + +In fact, Elliott had no more to place. The stack of checks he had +purchased was exhausted, and he had no mind to buy more. He slid down +from the high stool and stepped back, and with the fever of the game +still throbbing in his blood, he watched the little ivory ball as it +spun. It slackened speed; in a moment it would jump; and Elliott +suddenly felt—he _knew_—what the result would be. He thrust his hand +into his pocket where a crumpled bill lingered, and it was on his lips +to say “Five dollars on the single zero, straight,” when the ball +tripped on a barrier and fell. + +“That’s the single zero,” said the croupier, and spun the ball again. + +Elliott turned away, shrugging his shoulders. “That’s enough for me +to-night,” he remarked, with an affectation of unconcern. He had no +luck; he could predict the combinations only when he did not stake. + +The sleepy negro on guard drew the bolt for him to pass out, and he +went down the stairs to the precipitous St. Joseph streets, at that +hour, silent and deserted. It was a mild spring night, and the air +smelled sweet after the heavy atmosphere of the gaming-rooms. A full +moon dimmed the electric lights, and his steps echoed along the empty +street as he walked slowly toward the river-front, where the muddy +Missouri rolled yellow in the sparkling moonlight. + +As the coolness quieted his nerves he was filled with sickening +disgust at his own folly and weakness. “Why had he done it?” he asked +himself. He had never been a gambler, in the usual sense of the word. +His ventures had always been staked upon larger and more vital events +than the turn of a card or of a wheel, but after finding that he had +come to St. Joseph upon a fruitless quest, after all, he had gone to +the gaming-rooms with one of the _Post’s_ reporters, who was showing +him the town. In his depression and weariness and curiosity he had +begun to stake small sums and to win. He remembered scarcely anything +more. He had won largely; then the luck changed. He had sat down at +the table with nearly seventy dollars. How much was left? + +He had reached the bottom of the street, and, crossing the railway +tracks, he walked out upon the long pier that extends into the river +and sat down upon a pile of planks. A freight-train outbound for St. +Louis shattered the night as it banged over the noisy switches, and +then silence fell again upon the yellow river. In the unsleeping +railway-yards to the east there was an incessant flash and flicker of +swinging lanterns. + +He turned out his pockets. There was the five-dollar bill that he had +saved from the wheel, and a quantity of loose silver,—eighty-five +cents. With a lively emotion of pleasure he discovered another folded +five-dollar bill in his pocketbook which he had not suspected. Ten +dollars and eighty-five cents was the total amount. It was all that +was left of his former capital, or it was the nucleus of his new +fortunes, as he should choose to consider it. + +At the memory of the promises he had made scarcely a hundred hours ago +to Margaret Laurie, he shivered with shame and self-reproach, and in +his remorse he realized more clearly than ever the truth of her words. +He was wasting his life, his time, and his money; and already the +endless chase of the rainbow’s end began to seem no longer desirable. +In an access of gloom he foresaw years and years of such unprofitable +existence as he had already spent, alternations of impermanent success +and real disaster, of useless labour, of hardship that had lost its +romance and come to be as sordid as poverty, and for the sum of it +all, Failure. The fitful fever of such a life could have no place for +the quiet and graceful pleasures that he had almost forgotten, but +which seemed just then to lie at the basis of happiness and success; +and suddenly in his mind there arose a vision of the old city on the +Chesapeake Bay, its crooked and narrow streets named after long dead +colonial princes, its shady gardens, the Southern indolence, the +Southern quiet and perfume. + +That was where Margaret was going, and there perhaps he had left what +he should have clung to; and, as he turned this matter over in his +mind, he remembered another fact of present importance. One of the men +with whom he had worked on the Baltimore _Mail_ had within the last +year become its city editor. He had written offering Elliott a +position should he want it, but Elliott had never seriously considered +the proposition. + +Now, however, he jumped at it. “The West’s too young for me,” he +reflected. “I’d better get out of the game.” He would write to Grange +for the job that night, and he would be in Baltimore long before +Margaret would arrive there. No, he would start for the East that +night without writing,—and then he was chilled by the memory of his +reduced circumstances. A ticket to Baltimore would cost thirty-five +dollars at least. + +But the Westerner’s first lesson is to regard distance with contempt. +Elliott had travelled without money before, but it was where he knew +obliging freight conductors who would give him a lift in the caboose, +while between the Mississippi and the Atlantic was new ground to him. +Nevertheless he was unable to bring himself to regard the thousand odd +miles as a real obstacle. He could walk to the Mississippi if he had +to; it would be no novelty. Once on the river he could get a cheap +deck passage to Pittsburg, or he might even work his passage. +Probably, however, he could get a temporary job in St. Louis which +would supply expenses for the journey. As for his baggage, it would go +by express C. O. D., and he could draw enough advance salary in +Baltimore to pay for it. + +As he walked back to his hotel, he felt as if he were already in +Baltimore, regardless of the long and probably hard road that had +first to be travelled. That part of it, indeed, struck him rather in +the light of a joke. A few rough knocks were needed to seal his good +resolutions firmly this time, and the tramp to the Mississippi would +be a sort of penance, a pilgrimage. + +He debated whether to write to Margaret, and decided that he had +better not. It would not be pleasant to confess; at least it would be +preferable to wait until he was launched upon the new and industrious +career which he had planned. He would write from Baltimore, not +before. + +That night he laid out his roughest suit, and it was still early the +next morning when he tramped out of St. Joseph. His baggage was in the +hands of the express company, and he carried no load; despite his +penury he preferred to buy things than to “pack” them. He followed the +tracks of the Burlington Railroad with the idea that this would give +him a better and straighter route than the highway, as well as a +greater certainty of encountering villages at regular intervals. He +was unencumbered, strong, and hopeful, and he rejoiced, smoking his +pipe in the cool air, as he left the last streets behind, and saw the +steel rails running out infinitely between the brown corn-fields and +the orchards, straight into the shining West. + +For a long time Elliott remembered that day as one of the most +enjoyable he ever spent. It was warm enough to be pleasant; the track, +ballasted heavily with clay, made a delightfully elastic footpath; on +either side were pleasant bits of woodland dividing the brown fields +where the last year’s cornstalks were scattered, and farmhouses and +orchards clustered on the rolling slopes. Where they lay beside the +track the air was full of the hoarse “booing” of doves; and, after the +rawness of the treeless plains, this seemed to Elliott a land of +ancient comfort, of long-founded homesteads, and all manner of +richness. + +He had intended to ask for dinner at one of the farmhouses, where they +would charge him only a trifle, but he developed a nervous fear of +being taken for a tramp. Again and again he selected a house in the +distance where he resolved to make the essay; approached it +resolutely—and weakly passed by, finding some excuse for his +hesitation. It was too imposing, or too small; it looked as if dinner +were not ready, or as if it were already over; and all the time hunger +was growing more acute in his vitals. About one o’clock, however, he +came to a little village, just as his appetite was growing +uncontrollable. He cast economy to the dogs, went to the single hotel, +washed off the dust at the pump, and fell upon the hot country dinner +of coarse food supplied in unlimited quantity. It cost twenty-five +cents, but it was worth it; and after it was all over he strolled +slowly down the track, and finally sat down in the spring sun and +smoked till he softly fell asleep. + +He was awakened by the roar of an express-train going eastward, and it +occurred to him that his baggage must be aboard that train, travelling +in ease while its owner plodded between the rails. It was after two +o’clock; he had rested long enough, and he returned to the track and +took up the trail again. + +At sunset he reached Hamilton, and his time-table folder indicated +that he had travelled twenty-seven miles that day. At this rate he +would reach the Mississippi in less than a week, and he felt only an +ordinary sense of healthy fatigue and an extraordinary appetite. + +He was charged a quarter for supper that evening at a farmhouse, and +before dark he had reached the next village. There was a bit of +woodland near by where he imagined that he could encamp, and as it had +been a warm day he thought a fire would be unnecessary. So in the +twilight he scraped together a heap of last year’s leaves, and spread +his coat blanket-wise over his shoulders. It reminded him of many +camps in the mountains, and he went to sleep almost at once, for he +was very tired. + +A sensation of extreme cold awoke him. It was dark; the stars were +shining above the trees, and, looking at his watch by a match flare, +he learned that it was a quarter to twelve. But the cold was +unbearable; he lay and shivered miserably for half an hour, and then +got up to look for wood for a fire. In the darkness he could find +nothing, and, thoroughly awake by this time, he abandoned the camp and +went back through the gloom to the railway station, where half a dozen +empty box cars stood upon the siding. Clambering into one of these, it +appeared comparatively warm; it reminded him of Margaret and of the +hail upon Salt Lake,—things which already seemed very far away. + +His rest that night was shattered at frequent intervals by the crash +of passing freight-trains. They stopped, backed, and shunted within +six feet of him with a clatter of metal like a collapsing foundry, a +noise of loud talking and swearing, and a swinging flash of lanterns. +Drowsily Elliott fancied that his car was likely to be attached to +some train and hauled away, perhaps to St. Louis, perhaps to St. +Joseph, but in the stupefaction of sleep he did not care where he +went; and, in fact, when he awoke he saw the little village still +visible through the open side door, looking strange and unfamiliar in +the gray dawn. Grass and fences were white with hoarfrost. + +At five o’clock that afternoon Elliott was twenty-two miles nearer the +Mississippi. He had just passed a small station. His time-table told +him that there was another eight miles away, and he decided to reach +it and spend the night in one of its empty freight-cars, for he had +learned that camping without a fire was not practicable. + +He reached the desired point just as it was growing dark. Point is the +word, for it was nothing else. There was no depot there, no houses, no +siding,—nothing whatever but a name painted on a mocking plank beside +the track. It was a crossroads flag-station. Elliott had failed to +notice the “f” opposite the name in the time-table. + +The sun had set in clouds and a fine cold rain was beginning. The sky +looked black as iron. A camp in the rain was out of the question. The +next village was five miles away, but he would have to reach it. + +It was a dark night, but it never grows entirely dark in the open air, +as house-dwellers imagine, and as he went on he could make out looming +masses of forest on either hand. The country seemed to be growing +marshy; he came to several long trestles, which he crossed in fear of +an inopportune train. + +Presently the track plunged into a sort of swamp, where the trees came +close and black on both sides. The rain pattered in pools of water, +and through the wet air darted great fireflies in streaks of bluish +light. Their fading trails crossed among the rotting trees, and from +the depths of the marsh sounded such a chorus of frog voices as he had +never dreamed of, in piccolo, tenor, bass, screeching and thrumming. +In the deepest recesses some weird reptile emitted at regular +intervals a rattling Mephistophelean laugh. It impressed Elliott with +a kind of horror,—the blue witch-fires flashing through the rain, the +reptilian voices, and that ghastly laugh from the decaying woods; and +he hastened to leave it behind. + +It proved a very long five miles to the next station, and he was wet +through and stumbling with weariness when he reached it. The village +was pitch-dark; not a light burned about the station except the steady +switch-lamps; not a freight-car stood upon the siding. There was not +even a roof over the platform, and, too tired to look for shelter, +Elliott dropped upon a pile of lumber by the track, and went heavily +to sleep in the rain. + +The hideous clangour of a passing express-train awoke him; he was +growing accustomed to such awakenings. It was an hour from sunrise. +Close to him stood the little red station and a great water-tank. The +village was still asleep among the dripping trees. Not a smoke arose +from any chimney. + +It had stopped raining, and the east was clearer. Elliott was wet +through, cold and stiff, and he found his feet sore and swollen. He +was not in training for so much pedestrian exercise, and he had +overdone it. + +But the solitary hotel of the village awoke early, and Elliott did not +have to wait long for breakfast. Shortly after sunrise, strengthened +with hot coffee, he was renewing the march, finding every step +exquisitely painful. The romance of this sort of vagabondage was fast +evaporating, and the thought of the seventy dollars that he had wasted +in St. Joseph infuriated him. + +When the sun rose high enough to dry his garments, he sat down, +removed his coat, and steamed gently. After this respite the pain in +his blistered soles was worse than ever, but he trudged stoically on. +After an hour it grew dulled till he scarcely noticed it, and about +noon he reached Redwood. + +Near the station there was a small lunchroom, where Elliott satisfied +his appetite, and he returned to the railway, sat upon a pile of ties, +lighted his pipe, and reflected. The endless line of shining rails +running eternally eastward was loathsome to his eyes. + +“I’ve overdone it at the start. I ought to lie up and rest for a day +or two,” he said to himself. But even walking appeared preferable to +idling in the scraggly village, and he suddenly determined that he +would neither idle nor yet walk, but nevertheless he would be in +Hannibal in two days. + +He sat on the pile of ties for over an hour. A ponderous freight-train +dragged up to the station, went upon the siding and waited till the +fast express flashed past without stopping. Then the freight got +clumsily under way again with a tremendous clank and clamour. At it +rolled slowly past, Elliott saw a side door half-open. He ran after +it, swung himself up by his elbows, and tumbled head first into the +car. + +The train went on, gradually gaining speed. There were loose handfuls +of corn scattered about the car from its last load. Elliott slid the +door almost shut and sat down on the floor, wondering if the crew had +seen him get aboard. + +The train was attaining a considerable speed and the car was flung +over the rails with shattering jolts. Through the cranny of the door +Elliott saw trees and fields sweep by, and he was considering +pleasantly that he had already travelled an hour’s walk, when a heavy +trampling of feet sounded on the roof of the pitching car. + +He listened with some uneasiness. The feet reached the end of the car; +he heard them coming down the iron ladder, and then a face, a grimed +but not unfriendly face, topped by a blue cap, appeared at the little +slide in the end. + +“Hello!” called the brakeman, peering into the dark interior. “I know +you’re there. I seen you get in. I kin see you now.” + +At this culminative address, Elliott came out of his dusky corner. + +“Where you goin’?” demanded the brakeman. + +“Why, I’d like to stay right with this train. It’s going my way,” +replied Elliott. “You don’t mind, do you?” + +“Dunno as I do,—but you can’t ride this train free.” + +“Oh, that’s all right,” responded the trespasser. “I’m pretty short or +else I’d be on the cushions instead of here, but I don’t mind putting +up a quarter. Does that go?” + +“I reckon,” said the brakeman, unhesitatingly. “This train don’t go +only to Brookfield; that’s the division point. Keep the door shet, an’ +don’t let nobody see you.” + +He went back to the top of the train. Elliott felt as if he had been +swindled, for Brookfield was only twenty-five miles away. However, he +hoped to catch another freight that afternoon and make as many more +miles before sunset, and he settled himself as comfortably as possible +on the jolting floor and lighted his pipe. + +He had time to smoke many pipes before reaching Brookfield, for it was +nearly two hours before the heavy train rolled into the yards. Elliott +climbed out upon the side-ladder and swung to the ground before the +train stopped, to avoid a possible railway constable. Considerably to +his surprise, he saw half a dozen rusty-looking vagrants hanging to +the irons and jumping off at the same time. He had had more fellow +passengers than he had suspected, and it struck him that +freight-breaking must be rather a lucrative employment. + +All the rest of that afternoon Elliott watched the freight-yards, but, +though some trains departed eastward, they appeared to contain no +empty cars. After supper he returned to the railroad, and remained +there till it grew dark. Trains came and went; there were engines +hissing and panting without cease; all the dozen tracks were crowded +with cars, and up and down the narrow alleys between them hastened men +with lanterns, talking and swearing loudly. The crash and jar of +coupling and shunting went on ceaselessly, and this activity did not +lessen, and the night passed, for Brookfield was one of the “division +points” on the main line of a great railroad. + +It was nearly midnight when Elliott observed that a train was being +made up with the caboose on the western end. He walked its length; the +switchmen paid no attention to him, and he discovered an empty box car +about the middle of the train, and into it he climbed without delay. +For another half-hour, however, the manipulation of the cars +continued, with successive violent shocks as fresh cars were coupled +on. The whole train seemed to be broken and shuffled in the darkness, +and it was hauled up and down till Elliott began to doubt whether it +were going ahead at all. But at last he heard the welcome two blasts +from the locomotive ahead, and in another minute the long train was +labouring out. + +This time he suffered no interference from any brakeman. The train was +a fast freight; it made no stop for nearly two hours, and then +continued after the briefest delay. The speed was high enough to make +the springless car most uncomfortable, till the jolts seemed to shake +the very bones loose in Elliott’s body. Every position he tried seemed +more uncomfortable than the last, but he was determined to stay with +the train as far as it went. After a few hours of being tossed about, +he became somewhat stupefied, and even dozed a little, and between +sleep and waking the night passed. In the first gray of morning the +train pulled up at the great water-tank at Palmyra Junction, fifteen +miles from Hannibal. He had travelled ninety miles that night. + +The train went no farther. After waiting an hour or two for another, +Elliott decided to walk the rest of the way, and he left Palmyra at +nine o’clock, arriving in Hannibal, very tired and dusty, at a little +after three. At the bottom of the long street he caught a glimpse of +the broad Mississippi rolling yellow between its banked levees. The +first stage of the journey was accomplished; the next would be upon +the river. + + + + + CHAPTER III. THE ADVENTURER + + +When he went down to the levee an hour or two later, Elliott found no +boats preparing to sail, and a general lack of activity about the +steamer wharves. Sitting upon a stack of cotton-bales, he perceived a +young man of rather less than his own age, smoking with something of +the air of a busy man who finds a moment for relaxation. He was very +much tanned; he wore a flannel shirt and a black tie, and his clothes +were soiled with axle-grease and coal-dust. By these tokens Elliott +recognized that he had been for some time in contact with the +railways, but he did not look like a railway man, and his face wore a +bright alertness that distinguished it unmistakably from that of the +joyless hobo. Elliott took him for an amateur vagrant like himself. + +“Seems to be nothing doing on the river. Do you know when there’s a +boat for St. Louis?” he asked, pausing beside the cotton-bales. + +The lounger took stock of Elliott, keenly but with good nature. + +“There ought to be one leaving about six o’clock, but I don’t see any +sign of her yet,” he responded. “Going down the river?” + +“I thought I’d try it. Do you reckon the mate would take me on, even +if it was only to work my passage?” + +“What do you want to do that for?” queried the other, with a sort of +astonished amusement. + +“Why, I wanted to get to St. Louis, and after that up to Pittsburg or +Cincinnati.” + +“If you want to get there easy, and get there alive, I don’t see why +you don’t swim,” remarked the stranger, dryly. “You don’t know much +about these river boats, do you? Man, they’re floating hells. The crew +is all niggers, and the toughest gang of pirates in America. They +knife a man for a chew of tobacco. The officers themselves don’t +hardly dare go down on the lower deck after dark,—but, Lord! they do +take it out of the black devils when they tie up at a wharf and start +to unload. If you can’t work for ten hours at a stretch toting a +hundred-pound crate in each hand, live on corn bread, and kill a man +every night, don’t try the boats. A white man wouldn’t last any longer +in that crowd than an icicle in hell.” + +“The deuce!” said Elliott, disconcerted. “I’m very anxious to get to +Cincinnati, anyway, and the fact is I’m sort of strapped. I thought +I’d be all right when I got to the river.” + +“Tried freights?” + +“Yes, and they don’t suit me too well.” + +“I’m going to St. Louis,” said the stranger, after a pause. “I’m going +to leave early in the morning, and I expect to get there in three +hours, and I don’t intend that it shall cost me a cent. To tell the +truth, I’m in something of the same fix as you are.” + +“How’ll you manage it?” Elliott inquired, with much curiosity. + +“Ride a passenger-train, on the top. I’ve just come from Seattle that +way,” he continued, after a meditative pause. “There’s no great amount +of fun in it, but I did it in six days.” + +“The deuce!” exclaimed Elliott again. “Do you mean to say that you +came all the way from Seattle in six days, beating passenger-trains?” + +“Every inch of it. I was in a hurry, and I’m in a hurry yet. Mostly I +rode the top, and sometimes the blind, and once I tried the trucks, +but next time I’ll walk first. The beast of a conductor found that I +was there, and poured ashes down between the cars.” + +“You’re a genius,” said Elliott, looking at the audacious traveller +with admiration. “That’s beyond me.” + +“Not a bit of it. I don’t do this sort of thing professionally, nor +you, either. Excuse me, I can see that you’re no more a bum than I am. +But a man ought to be able to do anything,—beat the hobo at his own +game if he’s driven to it. I simply had to get to Nashville, and I +hadn’t the money for a ticket. I did it, or I’ve nearly done it, and +you could have done it, too. + +“Of course you could,” he went on, as Elliott looked doubtful. “Come +with me in the morning, if you’re game, and I’ll guarantee to land you +in St. Louis by eight o’clock.” + +“Oh, I’m game all right,” cried Elliott, “if you’re sure I won’t be +troubling you.” + +“Didn’t I say that I’m going, anyway. I mighty seldom let anybody +trouble me. Now look here: the fast train from Omaha gets here a +little before three, daylight. You meet me at the passenger depot at, +say, three o’clock. Better get as much sleep as you can before that, +for you sure won’t get any after it.” + +He glanced at Elliott with a smile that had the effect of a challenge. +“Oh, I won’t back out,” Elliott assured him. “I’ll be there, sharp on +time. So long, till morning.” + +Elliott went away a little puzzled by his new comrade, and not +altogether satisfied. The young fellow—he did not know his +name—evidently was in possession of an almost infernal degree of +energy. Plainly he was no “bum,” as he had said; it was equally plain +that he was, undeniably, not quite a gentleman; and, plainest of all, +that he was a man of much experience of the world and ability to take +care of himself in it. Elliott could not quite place him. He was a +little like a professional gambler down on his luck. It was quite +possible that he was a high-class crook escaping from the scene of his +latest exploit, and it was this consideration that roused Elliott’s +uneasiness. It was bad enough, he thought, to be obliged to dodge yard +watchmen and railway detectives without risking arrest for another +man’s safe-cracking. + +Still, the association would last only for a few hours, and he went to +bed that night resolved to carry the agreement through. He was staying +at a cheap hotel, and there were times when he would have regarded its +appointments as impossible, but it struck him just now that he had +never known before what luxury was. It was four nights since he had +slept in a bed, and, as he stretched himself luxuriously between the +sheets, the idea of getting up at three o’clock seemed a fantastic +impossibility. + +A thundering at the door made it real, however. He had left orders at +the desk to be called, and he pulled his watch from under the pillow. +There was no mistake; it was three o’clock, and, shivering and still +sleepy, he got up and lighted the gas. + +Near the waterfront he found an all-night lunchroom, and hot coffee +and a sandwich effected a miraculous mental change. With increasing +cheerfulness he went on toward the depot through the deserted streets. +It was still dark and the stars were shining, but there was an +aromatic freshness in the air, and low in the east a tinge of faintest +pallor. + +He found his prospective fellow traveller lounging about the +triangular walk that surrounds the depot, and saluted him with a +flourish of his pipestem. An almost imperceptible grayness was +beginning to fill the air, and sparrows chirped in the blackened trees +about the station. + +“She’ll be along in a few minutes,” said the expert, referring to the +train. “By the way, my name’s Bennett; what’ll I call you? Any old +name’ll do.” + +“Call me Elliott. That happens to be my real name, anyway. But say, +won’t it be a little too light soon for us to sit up in plain sight on +the roof of that train?” + +“A little. But she doesn’t make any stop all the way to St. Louis, I +believe, and of course the people on board can’t see us. It’s easier +to climb up there by daylight, too, and—there she whistles.” + +The few early passengers hurried out upon the platform. In half a +minute the train rolled into the station, its windows closely +curtained and the headlight glaring through the gray dawn. The +passengers went aboard; there was no demand for tickets at the car +steps, and Bennett and Elliott went straight to the smoker, where they +sat quietly till the train started again, after the briefest delay. + +“Now come along,” muttered Bennett, and Elliott followed him across +the platforms and through the three day coaches full of dishevelled, +dozing passengers. The Pullmans came next, and luckily the juncture +was not vestibuled. + +Without the slightest hesitation Bennett climbed upon the horizontal +brake-wheel, and put his hands on the roof of the sleeper. Then with a +vigorous spring he went up, crept to a more level portion of the roof, +and beckoned Elliott to follow him. + +The train was now running fast, and the violent oscillation of the +cars made the feat look even more difficult and dangerous than it was. +But the idea that the conductor might come through and find him there +stimulated Elliott amazingly, and he clambered nervously upon the +wheel, and got his hands upon the grimy roof that was heaving like a +boat on a stormy sea. Securing a firm hold, he attempted to spring up, +but a violent lurch at that moment flung him aside, and he was left +dangling perilously till Bennett scrambled to his relief and by +strenuous efforts hauled him up to more security. + +A furious blast of smoke and cinders struck his face. Before him +writhed the dark, reptilian back of the train, ending in the +locomotive, that was just then wreathed in a vivid glare from the +opened firebox. From that view-point the engine seemed to leap and +struggle like a frenzied horse, and all the cars plunged, rolling, +till it appeared miraculous that they did not leave the rails. Even as +he lay flat on the roof of the bucking car it was not easy to avoid +being pitched sideways. The cinders came in suffocating blasts with +the force of sleet, and presently, following Bennett’s example, +Elliott turned about with his head to the rear and lay with his face +buried in his arms. The roar of the air and of the train made speech +out of the question. + +The position had its discomforts, but it seemed an excellent strategic +one. An hour went by, and it was now quite light. The fast express +continued to devour the miles with undiminished speed. + +Little sleeping villages flashed by, as Elliott saw occasionally when +he ventured to raise his head Two hours; they were within forty miles +of St. Louis, when the train unexpectedly slackened speed and came to +a stop. + +Elliott jumped to the conclusion that it had stopped for the sole +purpose of putting him off, but he observed immediately that it was to +take water. He glanced at Bennett, who was looking about with an air +of disgusted surprise. + +There were men about the little station, and the trespassers flattened +themselves upon the car roof, hoping to escape notice, but some one +must have seen them. A gold-laced brakeman presently thrust his head +up from below, mounted upon the brake-wheel. + +“Come now, get down out of that!” he commanded. + +His conductor was looking on, and there was no possibility of coming +to an arrangement with him. Elliott slid down to the platform, much +crestfallen, followed by Bennett. Cinders fell in showers from their +clothing as they moved, and a number of passengers watched them with +unsympathetic curiosity as they walked away. + +“By thunder, I hate to be ditched like that!” muttered Bennett, +glancing savagely about. “Let’s try the blind baggage, if there is +one. We’ll beat this train yet.” + +Elliott doubted the wisdom of this second attempt, but they went +forward, looking for the little platform, usually “blind,” or +doorless, which is to be found at the front end of most baggage-cars. +It was there; none of the crew appeared to be looking that way, and +they scrambled aboard just as the train started. + +It was a much more comfortable position than the top, for there were +iron rails to cling to and a platform to sit upon, while they were out +of the way of smoke and cinders. Immediately before them rose the +black iron hulk of the tender and it was not long before the fireman +discovered them as he shovelled coal, but he made no hostile +demonstration beyond playfully shaking his fist. + +“We’re safe for St. Louis now. There won’t be another stop, and nobody +can see us or get at us while she’s moving,” remarked Bennett, with +satisfaction. He glanced over his shoulder, turned and looked again, +and his face suddenly fell. After a moment’s sober stare, he burst +into a fit of laughter. + +“Done again! This ‘blind’ isn’t blind at all,” he cried, pointing to +the car-end. + +It was hideously true. There was a narrow door which they had not +observed in the end of the car. Just then it was closed fast enough, +but there was no telling when it might be opened. + +“Anyhow,” said Elliott, plucking up courage, “we’re making nearly +forty miles an hour, and every minute they leave us in peace means +almost another mile gained.” + +“Yes, and there’s just a chance that nobody opens this door. I think +that if we stop again we’d better give this train up.” + +They watched the door anxiously as the minutes and the miles went +past, but it remained unopened. The little stations flew +past—Clarksville, Annada, Winfield. It was not far to West Alton, and +that was practically St. Louis. + +The end was almost in sight. But the door opened suddenly, and the +brakeman they had before encountered came out. + +“I told you fellows to get off half an hour ago.” + +“Now, look here,” said Bennett, persuasively. “We’re not doing this +train any harm at all. We’re not going inside; we’ll stay right here, +and we’ll jump the minute she slows for Alton. We’re no hobos. We’re +straight enough, only we’re playing in hard luck just now and we’ve +simply got to stay on this train. Now you go away, and just fancy you +never saw us, and you’ll be doing us a good turn.” + +The brakeman reflected a moment, looked at them with an expression +more of sorrow than of anger, and returned to the car without saying +anything. + +“He’s all right,” said Elliott. + +“And every minute means a mile,” Bennett added. + +But in less than a mile the brakeman returned, and the conductor came +with him. + +“Come now, get off!” commanded the chief, crisply. + +“We’ll get off if we have to,” said Bennett. “You must slow up for us, +though.” + +“Slow hell!” returned the conductor. “I’ve lost time enough with you +bums. Hit the gravel, now!” + +Elliott glanced down. The gravel was sliding past with such rapidity +that the roadway looked smooth as a slate. + +“Great heavens, man, you wouldn’t throw us off with the train going a +mile a minute. It would be sure murder,” pleaded Bennett. + +“I’ve no time to talk. Jump, or I’ll throw you off.” The conductor +advanced menacingly, with the brakeman at his shoulder. + +Bennett lifted his arm with a gesture that the conductor mistook for +aggression. He whipped out his revolver and thrust it in Bennett’s +face. The adventurer, startled, stepped quickly back, clean off the +platform, and vanished. + +A wave of rage choked Elliott’s throat, and he barely restrained +himself from flying at the throats of his uniformed tormentors. + +“Now you’ve done it,” he said, finding speech with difficulty. “You’ve +killed the man.” + +The conductor, looking conscience-stricken and anxious, leaned far out +and gazed back, and then pulled the bell-cord. + +“He needn’t have jumped. I wouldn’t have thrown him off; never did +such a thing in my life,” he muttered. + +“He didn’t jump. You assaulted him, when all he wanted was to get off +quietly. You pulled your gun on him, when neither of us was armed. +It’s murder, and you’ll be shown what that means.” + +Elliott felt that he had the moral supremacy. The conductor made no +reply, and the train came to a stop. + +“You’d better go back and look after your partner,” he said, in a +subdued manner. “I’m mighty sorry. I’d never have hurt him if he’d +stayed quiet. It’s only a couple of miles to Alton,” he added, as +Elliott jumped down, “and you can take him into St. Louis all right, +if he isn’t hurt bad. I’d wait and take you in myself if I wasn’t +eighteen minutes late already.” + +The train was moving ahead again before Elliott had reached its rear. +He ran as fast as he could, and while still a great way off he was +relieved to see Bennett sitting up among the weeds near the fence +where he had been pitched by the fall. He was leaning on his arms and +spitting blood profusely. + +“Are you hurt much, old man? I thought you’d be killed!” cried +Elliott, hurrying up. + +Bennett looked at him in a daze. His face was terribly cut and bruised +with the gravel, and the blood had made a sort of paste with the +smoke-dust on his cheeks. His clothes were rent into great tatters. + +“Don’t wait for me,” he muttered, thickly. “Go ahead. Don’t miss the +train. I’m—all right.” + +But his head drooped helplessly, and he sank down. The ditch was full +of running water, and Elliott brought his hat full and bathed the +wounded man’s head and washed off the blood and grime. Bennett revived +at this, and looked up more intelligently. + +Elliott examined him cursorily. His right arm was certainly broken, +and something appeared wrong with the shoulder-joint; it looked as if +it might be dislocated. There must be a rib broken as well, for +Bennett complained of intense pain in his chest, and continued to spit +blood. + +“That conductor certainly ditched us, didn’t he?” he murmured. “Did he +throw you off too? I was a fool not to see that door.” + +None of the injuries appeared fatal, or even very serious, with proper +medical care, and Elliott felt sure that the right thing was to get +his comrade into St. Louis and the hospital at once. But Bennett was +quite incapable of walking, and Elliott was not less unable to carry +him. He became feverish and semidelirious again; he talked vaguely of +war and shipwreck, but in his lucid moments he still adjured Elliott +to leave him. + +Elliott remained beside him, though with increasing anxiety. After an +hour or two, however, he was relieved by the appearance of a gang of +section workers with their hand-car, to whom Elliott explained the +situation without reserve. They were sympathetic, and carried both +Elliott and Bennett into Alton on their car, where they waited for two +hours for a train to St. Louis. + +Bennett was got into the smoker with some difficulty; he remained +almost unconscious all the way, and at the Union Station in St. Louis +there was more difficulty. Elliott was afraid to call a policeman and +ask for the ambulance, lest admission should be refused on the ground +that Bennett was an outsider. So, half-supporting and half-carrying +the injured man, he got him out of the station and a few yards along +the street. It was impossible to do more. A policeman came up, and +Elliott briefly explained that this man was badly hurt and would have +to go to the hospital at once. Then he hurried off, lest any questions +should be asked. + + + + + CHAPTER IV. THE FATE OF THE TREASURE SHIP + + +Elliott watched the arrival of the ambulance from a distance, for he +felt certain that he looked a thorough tramp, with his rough dress and +the clinging coal grime of the railroad. Yet he did not wish to leave +the city without at least seeing Bennett again, and hearing the +medical account of his condition; and he was surprised to find how +much liking he felt for this light-hearted and resourceful vagabond +whom he had known for less than twenty-four hours. + +Though his money was running dangerously short, he lodged himself at a +not wholly respectable hotel on Market Street, and next morning he +made what improvement he could in his appearance, and went to the +hospital. Visitors, it turned out, were not admitted that day, but he +was told that his friend was in a very bad way indeed. The young +doctor in white duck evidently did not consider his shabby-looking +inquirer as capable of comprehending technical details, and seemed +himself incapable of furnishing any other, but Elliott gathered that +Bennett had been found to have two or three ribs broken and his +shoulder dislocated, besides a broken arm and more or less severe +lacerations of the lungs. He was quite conscious, however, and the +doctor said that, if he grew no worse, it was likely that Elliott +would be permitted to see him on the next visiting day, which would be +the morrow. + +At three o’clock the next afternoon, therefore, Elliott applied, and +was admitted without objection. A wearied-looking nurse led him +through the ward, where there seemed a visitor for every cot. Bennett, +she said, appeared a little better. His temperature had gone down and +he seemed to be recovering well from the shock, but Elliott was +startled at the pallor of the face upon the pillow. The brown tan +looked like yellow paint upon white paper, but Bennett greeted him +cheerfully and seemed nervously anxious to talk. + +“Sit down here. This is mighty good of you,” he said. “I never got +ditched like that before. Did that conductor throw you off, too?” + +“Oh, no. He stopped the train for me to get off. His conscience was +hurting him, I think.” + +“Well, it’s going to cost the road something, I think. But you’ve +stayed by me like a brother,” Bennett went on, deliberatively, “and +I’ll make it up to you if I can, and I think I can. There’s something +I want to tell you about. It’s no small thing, and it’ll take an hour +or two, so you’ll have to come to-morrow afternoon, and bring a +note-book. We can’t talk with all these visitors swarming around. +They’ll let you in; I’ve fixed it up with the doctor. They said that +it was liable to kill me, but I told them that it was a matter of life +and death, and they gave in. It is a life and death business, too, for +a couple of dozen men have been killed in it already, and there’s a +round million, at least, in solid gold. What do you think of that?” + +Elliott thought that his comrade was becoming delirious again, but he +did not say so. The nurse, who had been keeping an eye on him, came +up. + +“I really think you’ve talked long enough,” she said, with a sweetness +that had the force of a command. + +“All right,” said Elliott, getting up. “I’ll see you to-morrow, then. +Good-bye.” + +“Will it really be all right, nurse, for me to have a long talk with +him to-morrow?” he inquired, as soon as he was out of Bennett’s +hearing. + +“No, it isn’t all right, but the house surgeon has given his consent. +I think it’s decidedly dangerous, but your friend said it was an +absolute matter of life and death, and it may do him good to get it +off his mind. Come, since you’ve got permission; and if it seems to +excite him too much, I’ll send you away.” + +Elliott felt a good deal of curiosity as to the secret which was to be +confided to him, for which a couple of dozen men had died already. +Probably it had something to do with Bennett’s rapid journey across +the continent, and Elliott felt some apprehension that he might be +about to be made the involuntary accessory to some large and unlawful +exploit. + +His curiosity made him willing to take chances, however, and he waited +impatiently for the next afternoon. When it came, he found Bennett +propped up on three pillows and looking better. The nurse said that he +really was better, that all would probably go well, but that it would +be slow work, and this slowness seemed to irritate the patient most of +all. + +“First,” he said, when the nurse was out of earshot, “I’ll tell you +what you must do for me. You’ll have to go out of your way to do it, +but, unless I’m mistaken, you’ll find it worth your while. I want you +to go to Nashville, Tennessee, and I want you to go at once. It’s a +case for hurry. I can’t write now, and I daren’t telegraph. Maybe the +men I want aren’t there, but you can find where they’re gone. Will you +go?” + +Elliott hesitated half a moment, wishing he knew what was coming next, +but he promised—with a mental reservation. + +“That’s all right, then,” said Bennett, “because I know you’re +square,”—a remark which touched Elliott’s conscience. “It’s quite a +tale that I want you to carry to them, and I’ll have to cut it as +short as I can, and you’d better make notes as I go along, for every +detail is important. + +“I told you how I’d crossed the country from the Coast. I had come as +straight as I could from South Africa. I wasn’t in any army there; +that’s not in my line. It don’t matter what I was doing; I was just +fishing around in the troubled waters. + +“Anyway, I had a big deal on that was going to make or break me, and +it broke me. I was in Lorenzo Marques then, and it was the most +God-awful spot I ever struck. It was full of all the scum of the war, +every sort of ruffians and beats, Portuguese and Dutch and Boers and +British deserters, and gamblers and mule-drivers from America, all +rowing and knifing each other, and it was blazing hot and they had +fever there, too. + +“I’ve seen a good many wicked places, but I never went against +anything like that, and I wanted to get back to America. The American +consul wouldn’t do anything for me at all, but I saw an American +steamer out in the river,—the _Clara McClay_ of Philadelphia,—loading +for the East Coast and then Antwerp. She was the rottenest sort of +tramp, but she caught my eye because she was the only American ship I +ever saw in those waters. So I went aboard and asked the mate to sign +me on as a deck-hand to Antwerp, and he just kicked me over the side. + +“Anyway, I was determined to go on that ship, mate or no mate, for +there wasn’t anything else going my way, and I expected to die of +fever if I waited. So I went aboard again the night before she sailed, +and they were getting in cargo by lantern light, and there was such a +stir on the decks that nobody paid any attention to me. I got below, +and dropped through the hatch into the forehold. They had pretty +nearly finished loading by that time, and pretty soon they put the +hatches on. It was as dark as Egypt then, and hotter than Henry, with +an awful smell, but after awhile I went to sleep, and when I woke up +she was at sea, and rolling heavily. + +“When I thought she must be good and clear of land, I started to go up +and report myself, but when I’d stumbled around in the dark for +awhile, I found that the bales and crates were piled up so that I +couldn’t get near the hatch. So I sat down and thought it over. I had +a quart bottle of water with me, but nothing to eat, and I began to be +horribly hungry. + +“When I’d been there ten or twelve hours, I guess, I tried moving some +of the crates to get to the hatchway, but they were too heavy. But +while I was lighting matches to see where I was, I saw a lot of cases +just alike, and all marked with the stencil of a Chicago brand of +corned beef, and it looked like home. I thought it must be a +providential interposition, for I was pretty near starving, and it +struck me that I might rip one of the boards off, get out a can or +two, and nail the case up again. + +“The cases were big and heavy, and they were all screwed up and banded +with sheet iron, but I had regularly got it into my head that I was +going to get into one of them, and at last I did burst a hole. When I +stuck my hand in, it nearly broke my heart. There wasn’t anything +there at all, so far as I could make out, but a lot of dry grass. + +“It occurred to me that this must be another commissary fraud, but +when I tried to move the case it seemed heavy as lead. I poked my arm +down into the grass and rummaged around. At last I struck something +hard and square down near the middle, but it didn’t feel like a meat +tin. I worked it out, and lit a match. It was a gold brick, and it +must have weighed ten pounds.” + +“Solid, real gold?” cried Elliott, with a sudden memory of Salt Lake. + +“The real thing. It didn’t take me long to gut that box, and I dug out +nineteen more bricks, nearly fifty thousand dollars’ worth, I +reckoned. No wonder it was heavy. Then I looked over the rest of the +cases, and they all looked just alike, and there were twenty-three of +them, so I figured up that there must be considerably over a million +in those boxes.” + +“Stolen from the Pretoria treasury!” Elliott exclaimed. + +“I believe it was, but what made you think of that?” + +“Never mind; I’ll tell you later. Go on.” + +“Well, I felt pretty certain that this gold came from the Rand, of +course, but who it belonged to, or why he had shipped it on this old +tramp steamer was what I couldn’t make out. Of course, if he _was_ +going to ship it on this boat, it was easy to understand that it might +be safer to pass it as corned beef, but the whole thing looked queer +and crooked to me. + +“At first I was fairly off my head at the find, but when I came to +think it over, it looked like there wasn’t anything in it for me, +after all. I couldn’t walk off with those bricks. They might be +government stuff, and I didn’t want any trouble with Secret Service +men. So after awhile I packed up the box again as well as I could and +fixed the lid. + +“I thought I’d lie low for awhile, and I stayed in that black hole +till I’d drunk all my bottle of water and was pretty near ready to eat +my boots. When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I raised a devil of a +racket, yelling, and hammering on the deck overhead with a piece of +plank, and I kept this up, off and on, for half a day before they +hauled the hatch off and took me out. It was dark night, with a fresh +wind, and the ship rolling, and I never smelt anything so good as that +open air. + +“The first thing they did was to drag me before that same mate for +judgment, and he cursed me till he was blue. He’d have murdered me if +he’d recognized me, and he nearly did anyway, for he sent me down to +the stoke-hold. + +“I couldn’t stand that. I’d had a touch of fever in Durban, and I was +weak with hunger anyway, and the first thing I knew I was tumbling in +a heap on the coal. Somebody threw a bucket of water over me, but it +was no use. I couldn’t stagger, and they took me up and made a +deck-hand of me. + +“This suited me all right, and the fresh air soon fixed me up. I +wouldn’t have minded the job at all, but for the mate. The crew were +afraid of him as death. His name was Burke, Jim Burke; he was a big +Irishman, with a fist like a ham, and he made that ship a hell. He +nearly killed a man the first night I was on deck, and I’ve got some +of his marks on me yet. The captain wasn’t so bad, but I didn’t see so +much of him. I was in the mate’s watch,—worse luck! + +“But all this time I didn’t forget that gold below, and I was trying +to see through the mystery. But I couldn’t make any sense of it till I +saw the passengers we had. + +“There were four of them that I saw. Three of them I spotted at once +as from Pretoria. I’d seen the office-holding Boer often enough to +recognize him, and they always talked among themselves in the Taal. +Two of them were native Boers, I was sure, but the third looked like +some sort of German. Besides these fellows, there was a middle-aged +Englishman that looked like a missionary, and I heard something of +another man who never showed himself, but I didn’t pay any attention +to any one but the Boers. + +“Because when I saw them, I saw through the whole thing. The war was +going well for the Boers just then, but there were plenty of them wise +enough to see that they couldn’t fight England to a finish, and +crooked enough to try to feather their nests while they had a chance. +Pretoria was all disorganized with the war-fever; half the government +was at the front, and I’d heard of the careless ways they handled the +treasury at the best of times.” + +“You were right,” said Elliott. “I happen to know something about it.” +And he imparted to Bennett the story of the official plundering which +the mine superintendent in the Rand had written to him. + +“Well, I thought that must have been it,” went on Bennett. “I wondered +if the officers of the steamer knew the gold was there, but I didn’t +think so. I was sure they didn’t,—not if the Boer was as ‘slim’ as he +ought to be. I wouldn’t have trusted a box of cigars to that crowd. + +“But all this detective work didn’t put me any forwarder, and the mate +kept me from meditating too much. The boat was the worst old scow I +ever saw. Twelve knots was about her best speed, and then we always +expected the propeller to drop off, and she rolled like an empty +barrel when there was the slightest sea. I’m no sailor, and that was +the first time I’d ever bunked with the crew, but I could see easy +enough that she was rotten. + +“For the first few days the weather was pretty fair, but on the fourth +after I came on deck it turned rougher. There wasn’t very much wind, +but a heavy swell, as if there was a big gale somewhere out in the +Indian Ocean. It was the sixth day from port, and I reckoned that we +must be getting pretty well through the Mozambique Channel. + +“It came on cloudy that evening, and when I came on deck it was dark +as pitch and raining hard. There was a light, cool south wind with a +tremendous black swell. The big oily rollers hoisted her so that the +screw was racing half the time, and every little while she’d take it +green, with an awful crash. Everybody was in oilskins but me, and I +hadn’t any. + +“The mate was on the bridge, and it wasn’t long before we found out +that he was drunk, and he must have had a bottle up there with him, +for he kept getting drunker. Once in awhile he’d come down and raise +Cain, and then go back and curse us from up there till everybody was +in a blue fright. We didn’t know what he might do with the ship, and +the watch below came on deck without being called. + +“Just a little before six bells struck, I heard a yell, and I found +that he’d pitched the helmsman clear off the bridge, and taken the +wheel himself. That part of the channel is full of reefs and islands, +and we heard surf in about half an hour,—straight ahead the breakers +sounded, and the mate appeared to be running her dead on them. + +“Three or four of the men made a rush for the bridge to take the wheel +away from him, and some one went down to call the captain. But before +the mutineers were half-way up the iron ladder, the mate had his +pistol out, and shot the top man through the head, and he knocked down +the rest as he fell. By this time we could see the surf, spouting tall +and white like geysers, but it was too dark to see the land. The +captain came on deck, half-dressed and looking wild, but he was hardly +up when the mate gave a whoop, rang for full speed ahead, and ran her +square on the reef. + +“She struck with a bang that seemed to smash everything on board. I +was pitched half the length of the deck, it seemed to me, and next +minute a big roller picked her up and lifted her over the reef and set +her down hard, with another terrific bump. + +“When we’d picked ourselves up we couldn’t see anything at all, and +the spray was flying over us in bucketfuls. The steam was blowing off, +all the lights had gone out, and the old boat was lying almost on her +port rails, shaking like a leaf at every big sea. Still there didn’t +seem to be much danger of her breaking up right away, and we settled +down after awhile to wait for daylight. + +“When the light came back we saw that we were up against a long, +barren island, about half a mile across I should think, with one rocky +hill, and no trees, no natives, nor anything. We were stuck on a bunch +of reefs nearly a mile from shore, and we were half-full of water. +When we looked her over, we found that she was cracking in two, so we +got ready to launch the boats. Two of the men were missing, and we +never saw any more of the captain; we supposed that they had been +pitched overboard when she struck. The mate had been knocked off the +bridge and appeared to be hurt. He was lying groaning against the +deckhouse, but nobody paid any attention to him. + +“We got one of the starboard boats into the water with six men in it, +and it was smashed and swamped against the side before it was fairly +afloat. We threw lines and things, but only fished out one of the +crew. I got into the second boat myself, and we managed to fend off +from the ship, and got on pretty well till we came close to the shore. +It was a bad landing-place when there was any sea running, but we +tried it, and piled her all up in the surf. I got tossed on shore +somehow,—I don’t know how,—but presently I found myself half in the +water and half out, with a bleeding crack in my head, and most of the +skin scraped off my arms and legs. I looked for the rest of the boat’s +crew, but none of them came ashore—alive, that is. + +“In about half an hour I saw them put another boat overboard, but this +one shared the fate of the first, and I don’t think anybody was saved. +There was still too much sea running to launch boats. + +“I lay around on the shingle in a sort of silly state from the crack +on my head, waiting for some one to come and find me, but nobody came. +About noon, I guess, I saw another boat skimming round the corner of +the island with a sail set, and four or five men in her. I tried to +signal her, but she went out of sight, and that was the last I saw of +any of the people of the _Clara McClay_. + +“Everybody seemed to be off the ship, and it looked like I was the +only one to get to the island. That night the wind and sea got up +tremendously; the spray flew clean over the island, and I got up on +the hill to keep from being washed off. In the morning I saw that the +ship had cracked right open and broken in two, with her stern sticking +on the rocks and the bow part slipping forward into the lagoon. All +sorts of things were cast ashore that day,—but, say, there isn’t +anything in the Robinson Crusoe business. There was about fifty tons +of wreckage and cargo scattered over the beach, but I couldn’t do +anything with wood and hardware, and I had all I could do to find grub +enough for a square meal. Later I found more.” + +“Did any of the gold cases come ashore?” asked Elliott. + +“Oh, no. They were too heavy. But in a day or so, when the weather had +gone down, I rafted myself out to the wreck on some spars. But the +forward half of the ship was sunk in about eight fathoms; it just +showed above the surface, and I couldn’t get at the hold. The stern +part was out of water and I rummaged around for something to eat, but +everything was spoiled by the salt water. + +“Well, I was on that blessed island for ten days, living mostly on +salt pork and London gin, for that was about all I could find that +wasn’t spoiled by the sun or the water. It was furiously hot, and the +only fresh water I had was a big pool of rainwater, that was drying up +every day. Twice I saw steamer smokes to the northwest, and I knew +that I was away out of the track of navigation, so at last I went to +work and built a raft out of driftwood, and loaded all my gin and pork +and fresh water on board. I rigged up a sail, and even if I wasn’t +picked up I felt pretty sure that I could fetch the Madagascar coast, +anyway. + +“But I drifted around for six days. There was a strong current and a +breeze, sometimes both going the same way and sometimes not, and I +don’t know exactly where they carried me, but eventually an English +mail-steamer sighted me and picked me up. She was going to Sydney, so +I must have floated away up to the northeast of Madagascar. I told +them that the _Clara McClay_ had foundered at sea, gone down in deep +water, so as to put her completely beyond investigation, and I thought +I felt my fingers on those gold bricks. + +“When we got to Sydney, I shipped on a Pacific Mail boat for the +United States, and, as I’ve told you, I struck out at once for +Nashville to pick up the rest of my party, for I knew that they were +there during the latter part of the winter, and should be there yet. + +“You see we always acted together, and, besides, this was too big a +game for me to play alone. It would take a regular naval expedition +and a lot of capital to fish up all that yellow stuff, but if I could +locate the three men I was after I knew we could rustle the expenses +somehow. We’ve been through some big deals together, mostly in Mexico +and Honduras, where there’s always devilment and disturbances. +Well—that’s all. I can’t go to Nashville now, but this thing can’t +wait. Some one will be back after that gold if there was any one else +saved from the _Clara McClay_.” + +“The question is, who does this gold belong to?” said Elliott. + +“It doesn’t belong to anybody. It was stolen, in the first place, from +the Transvaal Republic. Well, there isn’t any Transvaal Republic any +more. Besides, it’s treasure-trove—sunk on the high seas. Don’t worry +about that, but listen to me. I don’t know where that island is, but I +think I know more than any one else alive, and you can surely locate +it from what I’ve told you. You’ll go to Nashville, and tell the boys +just the story I’ve told you. They’ll take you in on it, of course, +and they’ll do the square thing by me, same as if I was with them.” + +Bennett stopped, looking both exhausted and excited, and he fixed his +unnaturally bright eyes upon Elliott with a penetrating gaze. + +“I’ll go,” said Elliott, “certainly. Who are your men, and where’ll I +find them?” + +“Likely at the best hotel in Nashville. Inquire at the Arcadia saloon, +or the Crackerjack. If they’re not in Nashville you can find out where +they’re gone, and follow them up. Their names—better note them down: +John Henninger (he’s an Englishman), C. W. Hawke, Will Sullivan. Hand +me that writing-tablet. + +“What’s your first name?” continued Bennett, and he scrawled painfully +with his left hand: + + “Introducing Mr. Wingate Elliott. He’s all right. + + L. R. Bennett.” + +“There’s a package of evidence under my pillow,” continued the wounded +adventurer. “Pull it out.” + +Elliott extracted a crumpled envelope, bulging with a small, hard +lump. This proved to be something wrapped in many folds of soft +tissue-paper, and when unrolled Elliott saw a bright, pyramid-shaped +bit of yellow metal, about the size of a beechnut. + +Elliott walked away from the hospital feeling a little giddy and +light-headed at the sudden prospect of fortune. The enterprise was a +legitimate one. The gold had belonged to the Transvaal Government, and +that government was no longer in existence. Who was its owner? Was it +Great Britain? But Elliott was a Democrat and a strong supporter of +the independence of the South African Republics, and he could not +acknowledge any claim of the Crown. At any rate, the finders of the +treasure-ship would be entitled to a heavy salvage. + +But at the memory of Margaret he stopped short on the street in +perplexity. What would she say? This was the very sort of adventure +that he had promised to avoid. If she were there; if she knew all, and +if she told him to drop it, he felt a conviction that he would drop it +without hesitation. But yet—he walked on again—this was a legitimate +salving enterprise, and he had never met one which offered so fair +rewards. + +The gold was really no man’s. No one knew where it was; and with a +chilling shock he recollected that he did not himself know where it +was. But no matter; it could surely be located; and in default of any +better method, they could visit every island in the Mozambique Channel +till they found the bones of the unlucky _Clara McClay_. + +So he wrote to Margaret that night, saying that he was going to +Nashville, on the prospect of a _legitimate_—he underlined legitimate; +the word pleased him—enterprise which promised money. + +Naturally he said nothing about his finances; he promised to write +again as soon as anything definite had happened, and hinted that he +might meet her at the depot when she arrived in Baltimore. When the +letter was posted he felt more at ease with himself. Almost penniless +as he was, his imagination already rioted among millions, and with the +yellow gleam flickering before his eyes he prepared to beat his way to +Nashville. + + + + + CHAPTER V. THE ACE OF DIAMONDS + + +Elliott reached Nashville in two days, being lucky enough to catch a +fast freight-train which carried him half the distance in a single +night. For the last twenty miles he travelled on a passenger-train, +paying his fare, to preclude the danger of arrest as he came into the +great railway yards, and the consciousness of safety in the face of +the police seemed to him almost an odd and unfamiliar sensation. + +It was early in the forenoon when he walked up the incline of the +ill-paved street that reminded him of St. Joseph. He inquired for the +Arcadia saloon; he found it on Cherry Street, and within the +swing-doors it was cool and dusky, sparkling with glass and marble, +and vibrating with electric fans. Two or three prosperous-looking +Southerners were sipping through straws from glasses crowned with +green leaves and crushed fruit, but Elliott contented himself with a +glass of beer, and asked the bartender if he knew Mr. Henninger, or +where he was to be found. + +“Sure,” said the mixer of drinks. “He’s been stoppin’ at the Hotel +Orleans, and I reckon you’ll find him there now. If he ain’t there no +more, ask for Mr. Hawke, and he’ll likely know something about him.” + +Hawke was one of the names Bennett had mentioned, and this small +circumstance, or perhaps it was the beer, raised Elliott’s hopes. He +finished his glass, and went straight to the Hotel Orleans, which was +three blocks away. + +The great lobby was full of leather-covered sofas and easy-chairs, and +floored with handsome mosaic, and perhaps a score of men were smoking +or reading newspapers. It was clearly a good hotel, and Bennett had +said that his friends would be at the best hotel in town. Elliott +looked over the register, and, not immediately finding the names he +sought, he spoke to the clerk, who did not take the trouble to conceal +his contempt of Elliott’s disreputable appearance. + +“Yes,” he said, curtly. “That’s Mr. Henninger sitting by the window, +in the gray suit.” + +Elliott walked over to the man indicated. He was young, probably not +over thirty-five, dark-faced, strong-featured, with a suspicion of +military severity and exactitude. His costume of hard gray tweed had +evidently come from the hands of a first-rate tailor, and he was +smoking a cigar which he never removed from his teeth, and looking +through the great window with an air of reserved boredom. Elliott, as +he approached, felt himself suddenly covered with a glance that was +like the muzzle of a revolver. + +“Mr. Henninger?” he inquired, pausing. + +The man in gray looked him over for another instant, and then replied, +frigidly: + +“Yes.” + +Elliott, who did not particularly care for this reception, handed him +Bennett’s note without another word. Henninger took it, and as he +opened it leisurely Elliott was struck by the shape of the hand that +held it. It was the hand of a pianist, a hand that had never worked, +white, long-fingered, thin, but looking all nerves and muscles, as if +strung with steel wires. + +Henninger read the note, and examined it very closely. Then he glanced +up at Elliott again with a slight smile, and held out his hand. + +“I’m glad to meet you, Mr. Elliott,” he said. “Sit down. What’s the +matter with Bennett, and where is he?” + +“He’s in the hospital in St. Louis. He got rather badly hurt—by a +train.” There were half a dozen men within earshot, and Elliott +thought it best to avoid details. “He was coming here to see you when +it happened. It seems there’s something doing.” + +He looked at Henninger, who returned the glance impenetrably. + +“I’ve a message from him, but it’ll take some time to tell it. He also +wished Mr. Hawke and Mr. Sullivan to hear it.” + +Henninger turned to a man sitting close to him, who had been listening +with all his ears, much to Elliott’s annoyance. + +“This is Mr. Hawke.” + +Hawke was a younger man than the Englishman, shorter, lighter, with a +pleasant face and a light boyish moustache, like Elliott’s own. But +there were the same hard lines about the mouth and nostrils, and the +same level, aggressive gaze that Henninger possessed, so that at +moments the unlike faces took on a curious similarity. + +“Sullivan isn’t in the city,” said Henninger, “but we know where he +is. It’s all the same thing. But if we’re going to talk we’d better go +up to my room.” + +It was a good room, at the front on the second floor, and as Elliott +surveyed its luxurious appointments he felt sure that the party must +be in funds, after all. A bell-boy presently came in with a tray, a +bottle, a siphon of seltzer, and a box of cigars. + +In the midst of this unexpected luxury, and feeling conscious of his +own shabbiness, Elliott told the story of the wreck of the _Clara +McClay_, making reference to his notes, and at the end producing the +little prism of gold that Bennett had cut from the brick. At the first +mention of the treasure Elliott caught an involuntary glance flashed +between Henninger and Hawke that was like the discharge of an electric +spark, but neither made any comment till the tale was finished. + +Then Henninger poured out a spoonful of whiskey, brimmed up the +tumbler from the fizzing siphon, and sipped it slowly, meditatively. + +“Confound it, what do you think?” burst out Hawke, who was wriggling +with excitement. + +“I think we’d better telegraph to Sullivan,” replied Henninger, +putting down the glass. “And I’ll wire Bennett, too—without any +reflection upon your veracity, Elliott. Now, look here,” he went on, +with increasing animation, “as it looks now, there may be a good thing +in this, but first of all we don’t know anything. We don’t know where +that wreck is. Seems to me that Bennett might have taken some kind of +bearings. Now some one who knows more than we do may get there first.” + +“It looks to me as if that mate was up to something,” said Hawke. + +“Very much so. The question is, whether he got away. Bennett said he +was hurt. If he did escape, you can bet he’ll come back, and there’s +been a lot of time lost already.” + +“Well, now,” Elliott interrupted, “if you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave +you. I’m afraid I’m embarrassing your councils, and I’ve got a long +road to Baltimore.” + +“But, hold on!” ejaculated Hawke. “You’re in this. Ain’t he, +Henninger?” + +Henninger looked at Elliott again, with the same acutely penetrative +scrutiny as at first, a manner not unfriendly, but coldly analytical. + +“Yes, he’s in it, if he cares to come in,” he answered, finally. “But +you must understand, Elliott, what sort of a game this is. Everything +may be all right, or not. It looks to me now as if those meat-cases +didn’t belong much to anybody, but that much gold never goes +unclaimed, and somebody is liable to turn up and want them. We may +have to fight for it; they may bring in international law, though +we’ve a right to salvage, anyway. There’s a risk of imprisonment; +there’s risk of sudden death. We’re not men that deal in the crooked; +straight work, with big profits and big chances, is our line, but +we’re not men to stick at little things either, when there’s a heavy +stake up.” + +“It seems to me that you are trying to frighten me,” said Elliott. + +“I am trying to frighten you. If I can do it, we don’t want you in +this at all, or you’ll queer the whole thing. But if you’re game, if +you understand what it is, and still want to come in—why, come along, +and we’ll be glad to have you.” + +“Thanks,” replied Elliott. “I was just waiting to be formally invited. +I’ve figured up all the risks already, and in my present financial +state I’d take bigger risks for less money. And that reminds me that I +must tell you that I can’t put any capital in this scheme. I’m down to +my last dollar, and I’ve broken that.” + +Hawke began to laugh. “We’re all in the same boat, then. There’s my +pile,” pulling out two or three bills, and a little silver. “I’ll bet +it all that Henninger can’t match it.” + +“But,” Elliott exclaimed, “this room!—and those cigars were perfectos! +Do you find Southern hospitality go that length?” + +“Not at all; it’s pure business. Universal credit is what has made the +prosperity of this great country. We came; we looked respectable, and +we stayed; and as long as we keep up appearances, and spend a little +over the bar, they’re shy about presenting any bills too forcibly. It +cuts both ways, though, for we’d have been glad to get away from here +a long time ago, if we could. But we can’t take away our baggage, and +without our trunks we couldn’t keep up appearances anywhere; without +our appearances, we might as well be hoboes, or honest workmen. A man +is no better than his coat. I’m not hitting at you,” he added, +quickly. + +“Oh, I don’t mind,” Elliott assured him. “I’ve got a trunk full of +respectable raiment in Baltimore. I’ll send for it.” He laughed too, +as the piquancy of the situation struck him. “I don’t know how I’ll +get them out of the express office, though. What dazes me is how you +fellows expect to chase this million with the capital we have. We +need, goodness knows how many hundreds, or thousands. How will you +raise it—borrow it? Work for it?” + +“Hardly. Play for it,” replied Hawke, without hesitation. + +It was consistent. As Elliott looked at him, he was struck by the fact +that these men never did anything but gamble, staking their fortunes +or their lives with equal alacrity, generally with the odds against +them, and generally with the dice loaded against them also. He had +done the same thing himself, and he had promised Margaret to do it no +more. But— + +“We’d been thinking of something of the sort before you came,” Hawke +was saying, “so as to finish things one way or the other, and this +decides it. We’ll need a lot of money—oh, a devil of a lot. We’ll have +to fit out a regular expedition, hire a small ship of some sort, get +diving apparatus, and all sorts of things. Five thousand dollars is +the very minimum. Let’s see how much we can raise.” + +He emptied his pockets on the table; there was a little more than +fifteen dollars. Henninger, after much rummaging, produced eleven. + +“I’ve got ninety-five cents,” said Elliott. “Let it go into the pot, +too.” + +“Good,” said Hawke. “Total, twenty-seven dollars. Now, that’s a sum +that’s of no use to any man, much less to three men. Just on general +principles we might as well get rid of it, and get the agony over. But +see what we can do with it; we’ll just go over to Nolan’s place, at +the Crackerjack, and put up our little twenty-seven on the wheel, till +we make or break. Why, I knew a man in Louisville who started with a +dollar and broke the game. I didn’t see it myself.” + +“None of us ever saw those things done,” remarked Henninger, who was +listening with a dry smile. “But you’re right, I believe. It’s the +only chance I see, for Sullivan can’t possibly do anything for us in +time. Who’s to do the playing? Who’s got the luck?” + +“I haven’t,” said Elliott, with conviction. “I tried it in St. Joe.” + +Henninger opened a small grip and took out an elaborate morocco case. +There were rows of ivory poker chips in it, and a dainty, gilt-edged +pack of playing-cards. + +“A few poker hands will show who’s in the vein,” he remarked, and +began to deal the cards. + +From the first Hawke was by far the most fortunate, and when, upon the +last deal, he held a spade flush without drawing it was apparent to +all three that he was unconsciously in the enjoyment of a special vein +of luck. With a pleasing degree of confidence in this act of +divination, they handed over to him the entire capital of the +syndicate. Hawke looked a little overwhelmed at the responsibility. + +“We’ll go up with you, but we’ll leave you absolutely to yourself,” +said Henninger. “Play just as the fancy takes you, but play high and +fast. Hit the luck before it turns; that’s the only chance of making +anything.” + +The Crackerjack’s first floor was occupied by a marble and silver +saloon, and above this was the gambling establishment,—an immense, +cool, heavily curtained room, with shaded electric lamps above the +tables that glittered with their devices in red and black and green +and nickel. Overhead a dozen electric fans vibrated noiselessly. + +Eight or ten players were standing in a semicircle at the big “crap” +table. Each man, as he rolled the dice, snapped his fingers violently +in the air and emitted an explosive “Hah!” which is supposed to aid in +turning the winning number. Behind the table stood the suave employees +of the game. They did not snap their fingers; they made no +ejaculations—but they won. + +The roulette-table was deserted; it is not a favourite game in the +South, and the croupier was lazily spinning the ball to keep up an +appearance of activity. Hawke bought twenty-seven dollars’ worth of +white checks and settled himself on a stool, while Henninger and +Elliott walked over to the crap-table and stood looking on, to leave +him entirely open to the promptings of his “vein.” + +They heard the sharp, diminuendo whirr of the ball begin, but they did +not look around. “Whirr-rr! click!” + +“That’s the four of hearts and the second twelve,” said the croupier. + +Elliott was astonished to hear a card thus called instead of a number, +but Henninger explained in an undertone that, to evade the laws of +Tennessee, all the roulette-wheels in the State are marked with the +spots of the four suits of cards, up to the nines, instead of the +usual thirty-six numbers. This naïve accommodation is supposed to +satisfy at once the demands of justice and of sport, though it does +not always save a gaming-house from being raided by the police. + +They did not know whether Hawke had lost or won, and they did not +look, but they heard the rattle of checks, and the whirr recommence. +For a time that seemed endless—perhaps it was half an hour—this went +on. Henninger and Elliott tried to interest themselves in the fortunes +of the crap game. They glanced over the newspapers. They walked +restlessly about, smoked, peeped through the curtains at the street, +tried to talk, and fell silent at every sound from the table where +destiny was being spun out for them at the gay roulette. + +Evidently Hawke was not yet wiped out. Was he winning? They did not +know; they dared not look, listening to the whiz and click of the +wheel, and dreading to see the player return suddenly empty-handed. + +Finally the strain became unendurable, and Henninger turned and walked +straight to the roulette-table. Elliott followed him, and bit off a +half-uttered ejaculation as he caught sight of the board. + +Hawke was sitting behind a rampart of stacked checks. He had trebled +and quadrupled his capital already; his stakes were scattered all over +the board, and just as they came up he won again with a heavy play on +the second dozen numbers. There was a high flush on his cheeks; he had +laid down his cigar and forgotten it, but his face was full of the +bright certainty of the gambler who is playing in luck and knows it; +and he placed his stakes about the layout as unhesitatingly as a +system-player. + +Henninger and Elliott carefully avoided meeting his eye, and watched +the spinning wheel. Click. + +“The five of spades,” announced the croupier. + +The number had been “hit all round.” There were checks on it full, and +more on its corners, and Hawke built another tier of his rampart with +the proceeds of the coup. + +The atmosphere of the gaming-room is telepathic. The “crap-shooters” +becoming aware that a “killing” was in progress, abandoned their game +and came to look on in silence, some of them following Hawke’s +ventures with small stakes. + +And still the player won. He cleared the rack of white checks and +bought blue ones. With the change he was met by a reverse, and lost +heavily for some minutes, but the luck returned, and he seemed in a +fair way to empty the rack again. + +Again and again the numbers were squarely hit. When he lost he boldly +doubled his stake; he plunged recklessly on the most improbable +combinations, and the ivory ball, as if he had magnetized it, spun +unerringly to the chosen number. Round the table no one spoke but the +croupier; no one looked at anything but the board and the gaudy wheel. +Even those spectators who had no stake in the game were as breathless +as the rest. It was the sort of luck by which games are broken, and +presently the proprietor, Nolan himself, came up and watched the +struggle, silent and grave, with a slightly worried expression. + +There was another ten minutes of ill-fortune which sadly reduced +Hawke’s store. Henninger, anxiously following the play, wondered if +the run of luck were not exhausted—whether it would not be better to +leave off. But as yet scarcely four hundred dollars had been won. Win +or lose, the game must go on. + +Whiz—whirr-r-r—click! “It’s the ace of diamonds,” said the croupier, +leaning over the wheel. There was a dollar check upon the winning +square, and the croupier paid out the due thirty-five upon it. These +Hawke nonchalantly allowed to remain upon the number that had just +come up. + +Round spun the ball for endless seconds. Click! + +“The ace of diamonds repeats,” declared the croupier. The big stake +had won. The croupier was working for a salary, and the result made no +difference to him, but even he was affected by the pervading +excitement, and he showed it as he set himself to count out the stacks +of red checks necessary to pay the heavy winning—a little less than +thirteen hundred dollars. + +With hands that trembled a little Hawke raked the checks together into +a solid mass upon the same number once more, and the ball recommenced +its swift circling. It was the highest play that the Crackerjack had +ever seen. Nolan put out his hand as if to refuse the stake, and then +withdrew it again, but his eyes puckered under his hat-brim. The +spectators gathered closer round; a third appearance of the ace of +diamonds would win almost fifty thousand dollars, and would +undoubtedly break the bank, if not bankrupt the proprietor. + +“Great heavens! he’s pyramiding on the ace of diamonds again!” gasped +Elliott, in a fright, as soon as he understood; and Henninger turned a +savage face upon him for silence. But Hawke had caught the whisper. He +glanced up irresolutely, and, before the ball had slackened speed, he +swept three-fourths of the checks across the table and upon the simple +red. The rest, about three hundred dollars’ worth, remained upon the +lucky ace of diamonds. + +But he had changed his play, and every gambler at the table mentally +predicted disaster from the ill-omened act. A man who had been about +to follow his stake with a five-dollar bill, thrust it back into his +pocket. + +Round spun the ball, circling the slow-moving wheel. Every eye was +fixed upon the little ivory sphere that rolled and rolled as if it +would never stop—then gradually lost momentum, gravitated toward the +bottom, and tripped on a barrier. The iron-nerved Henninger bit his +cigar in two, and it dropped unnoticed from his lips. The ball jumped, +rolled across an arc of the wheel, and dropped into a compartment with +a click. + +“By God, he hits it!” ejaculated a looker-on, irrepressibly. + +“You win, sir. It’s the ace of diamonds for the third time!” said the +croupier, with a nervous smile, glancing at Nolan. “I’m afraid you’ll +have to cash in some of those checks. I haven’t enough left to pay the +bet.” + +Hawke nodded, but Henninger leaned forward. + +“No more,” he said, in an undertone to Hawke. “We’re through. We’ve +got what we needed, and more. We’re a syndicate, Charley,” he +explained to the croupier, “and Mr. Hawke was playing for us all.” + +“Shut up!” said Hawke, in a feverish whisper. “This is the chance of +our lives. It’s the chance of our lives, I tell you. I’m going to +wreck this game before I get up.” + +“No, you’re not. You’re going to stop right now,” responded Henninger. +“Pull yourself together, man; you’re drunk. Tell him you want to cash +in.” + +The two men glared at each other for a moment, the one flushed, the +other deadly pale, and Hawke slowly came to himself. + +“I guess you’re right, old man,” with a nervous giggle. “How much have +I won? Charley, I reckon I’ll cash in.” + +On this last and greatest coup a thousand dollars had been won on the +colour, and a trifle over ten thousand on the number, and besides +this, Hawke had several hundred dollars’ worth of checks from his +previous winnings. Nolan himself counted the checks, stacking them +back in place. The total amount was eleven thousand, seven hundred and +thirty-eight dollars. + +Nolan took the loss like a veteran book-maker. “I’ll have to send out +to the bank, gentlemen,” he said. “While you’re waiting, give the boy +your orders.” + +“No, this is on us,” said Henninger. “Everybody take something on our +luck. Nothing but Pommery’ll moisten it.” + +Nolan submitted gracefully. “I won’t deny that you do owe me a drink. +I’ve been in this business, here and on the turf, about all my life, +but I never did see anything like that run. I was glad when Mr. Hawke +cashed in—and that’s no lie.” + +Hawke was growing as pale as he had been red, and the champagne glass +trembled in his fingers. The two who had not played, suffering no +reaction, were scarcely able to subdue their spirits to a +sportsmanlike decorum. The money came, and Nolan counted it out in a +thick green package—the weapon that was to win the drowned million as +the twenty-seven dollars had won this. And yet, as Elliott looked at +the hundred-dollar bills he felt a sudden shock of belated terror. It +was only then that he realized what loss would have meant,—and it had +been such a near thing! + + + + + CHAPTER VI. THE MYSTERY OF THE MATE + + +Elliott awoke next morning with an uneasy head and a feverish taste in +his mouth, and looked vaguely around the unfamiliar hotel chamber +without being able to recall how he had come there. It was only +yesterday that he had been riding surreptitiously in box cars. But as +his brain cleared he remembered the splendid and joyous dinner that +had closed the day before, a misty glitter of glass and silver and +delicious wines and cigars. That recalled his new friends and his +message to them, and then the whole transformation of his fortunes +flashed back upon him—the miraculous winning at roulette, the treasure +trail; and, wide awake instantly, he jumped out of bed in a flush of +excitement. + +He found a new suit of clothes on a chair, which he now recollected +having bought ready-made on the previous afternoon. They were very +good clothes and fitted well, and in the trousers pocket he found a +thick wad of bills. Each of the partners had taken a hundred dollars, +and the rest of the money was in a sealed package in the hotel safe. + +In the dining-room he found Henninger and Hawke finishing breakfast, +though it was nearly eleven o’clock. Hawke looked wearied and nervous, +with the rags of yesterday’s excitement still clinging about him, but +Henninger was as fresh, as neat, and as unmoved as ever. A few other +late breakfasters at the other end of the room looked at the trio with +curiosity, for the report of their coup, greatly magnified in the +telling, had gone abroad; and the negro waiter served them with +exaggerated respect. + +In the lobby Elliott bought himself the best cigar he had ever smoked, +luxuriating in the novel sense of riches, which was like a sudden +relief from pain. He had never felt so wealthy in his life. The money +had come with such incredible ease; the sum looked almost +inexhaustible; and beyond it was the great treasure to be fished up +from the African seas. + +There were too many people in the lobby for private conversation, and +they returned to Henninger’s room. + +“First of all, I vote we send Bennett a hundred dollars. I kept it out +for him when I sealed the money last night,” said Henninger. “I’ll +wire him what we’ve done, and then I’ll wire Sullivan. I don’t know +that we told you, Elliott, where Sullivan is. He’s in Washington, +attending to a case for us. We were all in South America last winter, +and we’ve got a claim against the Venezuelan government for damages +and confiscation of property, and so forth, for two millions.” + +“Two what?” exclaimed Elliott. + +“Two millions. We thought we might get a few thousands out of it. +Anyway, Sullivan has been trying to get our case taken up at +Washington, but we’ll drop all that and tell him to meet us in New +York.” + +“I’d like very much to look up that Madagascar channel on the largest +map there is,” Hawke broke in, “and see what we can make of it.” + +He voiced a common desire. Every one wanted to look at it, and they +went down to the Public Library and obtained a gigantic atlas. They +propped it up on a table and put their heads together over the map of +East Africa. The steamer route from Delagoa Bay to Zanzibar and Suez +was marked in red, and at the northern end of the Mozambique Channel +it passed through a tangle of little islands and reefs. + +“Comoro, Mohilla, Mayotta, St. Lazarus Bank,” read Hawke, under his +breath. “It must be one of these.” + +They all gazed at the archipelago, two thumbs’ width on the paper that +represented a hundred sea leagues. Somewhere among these islands lay +the treasure that had cost the lives of a ship’s company already, and +as he stared at the brown and yellow spots, Elliott saw in excited +imagination the barren islands on the sunny tropical ocean, and the +spray spouting high over the reefs where the sea-birds wheeled about +the iron skeleton of the _Clara McClay_. There was the end of the +rainbow; there was the golden magnet that had already stirred the +passions of men on the other side of the world; and as he looked at +the lettered surface of the map, he felt a sudden cold prescience of +tragedy. + +“Glorioso, Farquahar!” murmured Hawke. “They surely couldn’t have run +so far out of their course as that. St. Lazarus is my choice, and, if +I’m right, we’ll make it St. Dives.” + +“We don’t know enough yet to make this any use,” said Henninger, +suddenly. “Let’s get out.” + +The sight of the map and its hundreds of miles of islands and seas did +in fact bring the problem into concrete reality, and forcibly +emphasized the difficulties. They all felt somewhat downcast and +vaguely disappointed, but, as they were going down the steps, Elliott +had an inspiration. + +“It occurs to me,” he said, “that if anybody escaped in the boats, +they must have been picked up somewhere at sea. In that case, the fact +is likely to be reported in some newspaper, isn’t it?” + +“What have we been thinking of?” exclaimed Henninger. “You’re right, +of course. The New York _Herald_ should have it, as she was an +American ship. We’ll go back and look through the files of the +_Herald_, if they have them, for the last few months.” + +The papers were bound up by months, and each man took a volume and sat +down to run through the shipping news. Elliott finished his without +finding anything, and obtained another file. He was half through this +when Hawke tiptoed over to him. + +“Here’s where Bennett appears,” he whispered. + +It was a four-line telegram from Sydney, stating that a seaman named +Bennett had been picked up from a raft in the Indian Ocean, reporting +that the American steamer _Clara McClay_ had foundered with all hands +in the Mozambique Channel. + +There was nothing new in this, but it seemed somehow encouraging, and +while Elliott was reading it, Henninger came over to them. His eyes +were sparkling, and he looked as if holding some strong emotion in +check. He laid down his file before them, and put his finger on a +paragraph, dated more than a fortnight earlier than the despatch from +Sydney. + + “Bombay, March 19. + + “The Italian steamer _Andrea Sforzia_, arriving yesterday + from Cape Town and Durban, reports having picked up on the + 10th about one hundred miles N. E. of Cape Amber, a boat + containing First Mate Burke, of the steamer _Clara + McClay_, of Philadelphia. He stated that his ship + foundered in deep water in the Mozambique Channel by + reason of heavy weather and shifting of cargo, and + believes himself to be the only survivor. He was almost + unconscious, and nearly dead of thirst when rescued. + + “The _Clara McClay_ was an iron steamer of 2,500 tons, + built at Greenock in 1869, and has been for some years + engaged in the East and West African coast trade. She was + owned by S. Jacobs and Son, of Philadelphia, and commanded + by Captain Elihu Cox.” + +The two men read this item, and Elliott, glancing up, saw his +mystification reflected on Hawke’s face. What new development did it +indicate that Bennett and the mate should have told the same falsehood +about the sinking of the _Clara McClay_, and certainly without +collusion? Henninger meanwhile was carefully copying the paragraph +into a note-book, and when he had finished, he gathered up the papers, +returned them to the librarian’s desk, and led the way out of the +building. + +“We’ve got a line on it at last,” he said, when they were in the open +air, and there was a keen eagerness in his usually impassive voice. + +“It’s clear that the mate was saved, but it don’t help us to find the +island, so far as I can see,” Hawke objected. + +“Oh, the island—confound it!” as they came into the crowds of Church +Street. “Let’s go somewhere where we can talk.” And he shut his mouth +and did not open it again till they were placed comfortably in a small +German café, which happened to be almost empty. + +“You don’t seem to understand,” he then resumed. “The mate lied,—said +the ship sunk in deep water, didn’t he? He told the same story as +Bennett. Why? For the same reason. He must have known the bullion was +there, after all. He took chances on being the only survivor of the +wreck, and he wanted to choke off any inquiry. There’s never any +search for a wreck that goes down in a hundred fathoms.” + +“But there were other survivors,” said Elliott. “There were others in +that boat with him when Bennett saw them sailing away. That must have +been the mate’s boat, and what became of the others?” + +“Ah, yes,—what?” replied Henninger, grimly. “He was alone when he was +picked up.” + +There was a moment’s silence at this sudden apparition of the crimson +thread in the tangle. + +“This is the way I see the story,” said Henninger. “That mate—what’s +his name—Burke?—knew the gold was on board. How he found out, I don’t +know. Whether he accidentally ran the steamer out of her course that +night, or whether he piled her up intentionally, I don’t know, either. +He may have done it by reason of his jag, or he may have tanked up to +give himself courage to carry it through. I suspect it was the latter. +Anyhow, when she was smashed, he saw his chance, for he reckoned that +his was the only boat to get away safe. He had several men with him, +but they seem to pass out of the story. He was picked up, carried to +Bombay; he lied about the wreck. + +“What does he do next? Why, of course he gets ready to go back to +Zanzibar or some such port and hire a craft to go to look for his +wreck. If he thinks he’s safe, he may lie low for awhile; or, if he +hasn’t the capital for the thing, he will have to hunt up some +ruffians to finance him. But if he thinks that he’s in any danger of +being forestalled, he’ll make haste. If by bad luck he reads of +Bennett’s being picked up, it’ll galvanize him; and as like as not +he’s sailing up the channel this minute, while we’re sitting here +drinking lager, doing nothing—because we don’t know anything!” + +“Yes, but how are we going to find out anything,—where the wreck is, +for example?” demanded Elliott. + +“Why, from this same mate, Burke, if we can catch him. He’s the source +of knowledge. He knows very well where it is; if he didn’t, he +wouldn’t have taken the trouble to lie about it. First of all, we’ve +got to catch that mate, and when we’ve got him, we’ll induce him to +tell us what he knows. Do you remember how Casal used to interrogate +prisoners in Venezuela, Hawke? We’ve got to get on his trail right +away, and meanwhile see that he doesn’t collar the cash before we know +it.” + +“It’ll be a long, wide trail,” Hawke remarked. + +“No. There’s only one hemisphere for Burke, and only one spot in it, +and that’s somewhere between Madagascar and the African coast. He +won’t go far from that if he can help it, and wherever he goes he’s +bound to come back. And he’ll have to come in his own ship, for there +aren’t any steamers plying to his island. He’ll have to hire or buy a +small craft on the East African coast, and there are only three ports +that will serve.” + +Henninger sipped his beer, and meditated in silence for a little. + +“My idea would be something like this. Three of us will go to South +Africa at once; we pick up Sullivan in New York, of course. One of us +will post himself in each of those three ports,—Lorenzo Marques, +Mozambique, and Zanzibar, watching every boat that comes in, every +stranger that lands, and everything that goes on along the waterfront. +If Burke turns up, our man will have to use his own judgment as to how +to get hold of him,—bribe him or kidnap him, or anything, but keep him +there at any cost till the rest of us can come. Meanwhile the fourth +one of us will go to Bombay, and try to find out where Burke went and +what he did. He might possibly be there yet; anyway, he must have left +some trace at the consulate or the shipping-offices.” + +“At any rate,” said Elliott, “it appears fairly certain that no one +knows anything about this ton of yellow metal but ourselves and the +mate, Burke. Then there’s no danger of outside interference.” + +“It’s a fair race to Madagascar!” Hawke exclaimed. + +“It’s a race,” said Henninger, shrugging his shoulders, “but I don’t +know about its fairness. We’re heavily handicapped at the start. Why +we’re wasting time here, I don’t know.” He stood up suddenly, +frowning, impatient. + +“Sit down and finish your cigar,” Hawke advised him. “There’s no train +for New York till nine o’clock to-night.” + +“Yes, and there’s no fast steamer for South African ports at all. +We’ll do best to sail for England, I fancy. Then the man who is going +to India can take the P. and O., and the rest of us will go by the +Union Castle Line to the Cape.” + +“But which of us is going to India?” Elliott inquired. + +“I don’t know.” Henninger glanced calculatingly at his companions. +“I’d like to go to Zanzibar myself, if you don’t mind, because I +suspect that it’s the dangerous point; and Sullivan should take +Lorenzo Marques, because he was there once, and he knows something of +the place. The shadowing lies between you two, as far as I can see.” + +“I’ll match you for it,” proposed Hawke. + +Elliott pulled out a quarter and spun it on the table, turning up +tail. Hawke followed, and lost. + +“I’m to be the tracker, then,” said Elliott. “I’m afraid I’ll make a +poor sleuth. I wish Bennett had given us a description of the mate, +for he has probably changed his name.” + +“So do I. I’d like to have time to run up to St. Louis and talk it +over with Bennett. I’d like a lot of things that we haven’t time for. +Bennett can’t write with a broken arm, so there’s no use in writing to +him for more details. But, as a matter of fact, I don’t really expect +that you’ll come up with this man Burke at all. What I do hope is that +you’ll find out where he went when he left Bombay, and if by chance he +hired any kind of vessel anywhere, and in general what he was doing. +We’ve got to get our information from him, there’s no doubt of that.” + +“And what about Bennett?” Elliott inquired, after a pause. “How is he +to come into the game?” + +“The chances are that the game will be played before his arm’s +mended,” said Henninger. “We’ll send him a hundred, as I suggested,—or +let’s make it three hundred,—and of course he’ll share and share alike +with the rest of us. I think I’d better write him to go to San +Francisco as soon as he’s able to travel, if he hasn’t heard from us +in the meantime, and hold himself in readiness there to join us. +Frisco’ll be the most convenient port, and he can cable us his address +as soon as he gets there.” + +“And I reckon we’d better telegraph to New York for staterooms,” Hawke +suggested. “The east-bound steamers are always crowded at this time of +year.” + +They sent the despatch at once to Cook’s agency, asking simply to get +to Liverpool or Southampton at the earliest date possible, expense +being no consideration. At the same time Henninger both telegraphed +and wrote to Bennett; and Elliott wired to the express company in +Baltimore to have his trunk placed in storage for him till his return. + +He had gone too far now upon the treasure trail to turn back, and +indeed he would not have turned back if he could. It was really the +romance of the adventure that fascinated him, though he did not think +so. He told himself that it was a legitimate enterprise—he clung to +the phrase—with a reasonable expectation of large profits. But in no +manner could he see his way to write a complete explanation of his +plans to Margaret; if he could have talked to her, he thought, it +would be easy. He composed a letter to her that afternoon, however, in +which he remarked negligently that he was going to India on a +commission for other parties, with all expenses paid, and would +probably not be back to America before autumn. At the end of the +letter, forgetting his precaution, he hinted of a vast fortune which +was scarcely out of reach,—an imprudence which he afterward regretted. + +The party left Nashville that night, and, as the train rolled out of +range of the last electric lights, Hawke drew a long breath. + +“I did begin to think we were never going to get away from that town,” +he sighed. “It looked like we were in pawn to the Hotel Orleans for +the rest of our lives.” + +Henninger smiled queerly. “Since we are fairly away, I don’t mind +telling you,” he said, “that the manager and I discussed the matter +last week. I explained that we were waiting for a large remittance +that was overdue, but it would certainly be here in a day or two; we +expected it by every mail. He gave it four days to arrive,—then we’d +leave or be thrown out. Elliott turned up on the last day.” + + + + + CHAPTER VII. THE INDISCRETION OF HENNINGER + + +There was no time to spare in New York. The party went straight to an +obscure but remarkably comfortable hotel near Washington Square, which +Hawke recommended, and here they found Sullivan waiting for them. He +had come up from Washington upon receiving his telegram, without +knowing definitely what the projected enterprise was to be. + +Sullivan was apparently a trifle older than Hawke, and unusually +good-looking. He was smooth-shaven, rather thin-faced, and he +exhibited in a marked degree that mingling of icy self-possession and +electrical alacrity that has come to be a sort of typical New York +manner. He was very accurately dressed, and wore a gold pince-nez. He +looked straight at you with a penetrating and impenetrable eye; he +spoke with an unusually distinct articulation. He seemed to be +perpetually regarding the world with a faint smile that was compounded +of superiority, indifference, and cynicism. In reality, his mental +attitude was far from either cynicism or indifference, but it took +some time to find this out. His general appearance vaguely suggested +that he might be a very rapidly rising young lawyer, and Elliott +discovered later that he had, in fact, been trained for the bar. + +“And now, what’s this new scheme you’re working me into?” he inquired. + +“We’ll tell you about it after dinner,” said Henninger. “Did you make +any progress in that Venezuela claim?” + +It appeared that Sullivan had not even been able to get what he called +“a look in” for his money, but it did not matter much, for in any +event the claim would have been temporarily dropped. They dined that +night at the Hotel Martin, and when the waiter had gone away and left +them in their private room with coffee and liqueurs, Elliott told +Bennett’s story for the second time. Sullivan listened, smoking +continual cigarettes, but as the plot developed, the same predatory +glimmer stole into his eyes that Elliott had seen on the faces of his +other companions. + +“It’s a big thing, certainly. It may prove a good thing,” he commented +coolly, when Elliott had done. “It’s one of the sportiest things, too, +that I ever heard of, but it strikes me that the odds are all on this +mate you speak of. He knows where the wreck is, and we don’t.” + +“Exactly; and he’s going to tell us. We’re bound to intercept him +before he gets back to the island, and if we can get ourselves posted +all along the East African coast before he arrives, the thing is +almost safe. But, until then, a day’s delay may cost us the whole +pile. We had a stroke of luck in Nashville, and another in getting +berths on the first Atlantic steamer, and if the luck only holds—” + +“When do we sail?” + +“On the _New York_, at noon to-morrow, for Southampton.” + +The next morning was breathlessly full of affairs. There was money to +be changed, infinite small purchases to be made, a thousand last +arrangements, and they had just time to snatch a hasty mouthful at a +quick-lunch counter, and get down to the dock as the first whistle +blew. The great wharf-shed was crowded, swarming and bustling about +the great black wall of the steamer’s side, which appeared to be +actually in the shed. The lofty, resonant roof echoed with the voices +and with the roll of incessant express-wagons bringing late baggage. +The place was full of the harbour smell of rotting sea-water, and the +noise, the movement, the excitement, increased as the last moments +arrived and passed. + +The decks were finally cleared of the non-passengers, and a dozen men +tailed on the gangplank. A swarm of tugs were nosing about the +monster’s bows. The last whistle coughed and roared, and the gap +between the side and the wharf suddenly widened. + +Elliott leaned over the rail with delight, as she swung out into the +river, and presently began to move under her own steam. The sierra +outline of New York developed into coherence, towering and prodigious, +jetting swift breaths of smoke and steam into the dazzling sky. An +irradiation of furious vitality surrounded it. This was the city of +the treasure-finders, of the searchers of easy millions, of the +buccaneers. It was the place above all others where the strong is most +absolutely the master, and the weak most utterly the slave; where the +struggle, not so much for existence as for luxury, reaches its most +terrific phase, evolving a new and formidable human type. Elliott felt +himself of a sudden strangely in harmony with this city which he was +leaving. The spoils to the victors—and he was going to be victorious! + +The ship was full, almost to her capacity, and the four gold-seekers +were scattered about in different staterooms. Elliott’s room had two +occupants already, and the sofa was made up for him at night. The +saloon tables were crowded on the first day; then it turned cold, with +a light, choppy sea and rain that lasted till the Grand Banks were +passed, and half of the passengers became invisible. With the promise +of fair weather they began to reappear, and on the third day the decks +were lined with a double row of steamer-chairs. + +During the first days of the voyage Elliott fell into greater intimacy +with Henninger than with any of the others of the party. It did not +take the older and more experienced man to learn all he desired to +know about Elliott’s vicissitudes. Elliott told it without any +hesitation, making a humourous tale of it, and, though Henninger +offered no confidences in return, he told Elliott curious adventures, +which, if they were true, argued an extraordinary experience of +unusual and not always respectable courses of life. + +Although he never became autobiographical, Elliott gathered by +snatches that he must have been at one time, in some capacity, +connected with the British army. Later he had certainly been an +officer in the Peruvian army, but his manner of quitting either +service did not appear. It was with South and Central America that he +appeared to have had most to do. He had mentioned cargoes of munitions +of war run ashore by night for revolutionary forces, fusilades of +blindfolded men against church walls, and more peaceful quests for +concessions of various sorts, involving a good deal of the peculiarly +shady politics that distinguish Spanish America. Henninger drew no +morals; he seemed to have taken life very much as he found it, and +Elliott suspected that he had been no more scrupulous than his +antagonists. At the same time he had a definite though singularly +upside down morality of his own, which continually inspired Elliott +with astonishment, sometimes with admiration, and occasionally with +disgust. + +There was a good deal of whist played in the smoking-room of an +evening, and a little poker, but with low stakes. It was on the +preceding passage of this very ship that a noble English lord had been +robbed of four thousand pounds at the latter game, and the incident +was remembered. Elliott was no expert at poker, and his friends showed +no inclination for play, so that, though they were in the smoking-room +every evening, it was seldom that any of them touched a card. + +On the evening of the fifth day out Elliott was sitting quietly in a +corner of the smoking-room with a novel and a cigar. It was nearly +eleven o’clock, and the low, luxurious room was full of men, and +growing very smoky in spite of the open ports. Sullivan had gone to +his stateroom; Henninger and Hawke were somewhere about, but Elliott +was paying no attention to anything that went on. + +Suddenly he became aware of a lowering of the conversation at his end +of the room. He glanced up; everybody was looking curiously in one +direction. In the focus of gaze stood Henninger, engaged in what +seemed a violent, but low-toned altercation with a short, fat, but +extraordinarily dignified blond little man who had been prominent +among the whist players. One of the ship’s officers stood by, looking +annoyed and judicial. Henninger was white to the lips, and his black +eyes snapped, though he was saying little in reply to the fat man’s +energetic discourse. No one else approached the group, but every one +observed it with interest. + +All at once, upon some remark of Henninger’s, the little man hit out +with closed fist, but the officer caught his arm. Elliott glanced +round and saw Hawke looking on with considerable coolness, but, +conceiving it his duty to stand by his friend, he got up and +approached the trio. + +“Go away, Elliott. This is none of your affair!” said Henninger, +sharply. + +Elliott retreated, feeling that he had made a fool of himself publicly +and gratuitously. But he was consumed with curiosity as well as +anxiety, for it struck him that this might be in some way connected +with the wrecked gold-ship. + +Presently the three men left the cabin together and the buzz of talk +broke out again. Elliott caught Hawke’s eye, and beckoned him over. + +“What was it?” he said, in an undertone. + +“I didn’t catch the first of it,” said Hawke. “I believe that little +ass accused Henninger of being a notorious card-sharper, or something +of the sort. The second mate happened to be there, and he heard their +stories, and I expect they’ve gone to the captain now.” + +The curious quality of Elliott’s regard for Henninger is sufficiently +indicated by the fact that at this information he was filled +simultaneously with indignant rage and wonder whether the thing were +true. He put the question directly to Hawke, who shrugged his +shoulders. + +“Henninger is absolutely the best poker player I ever saw,” he +replied. “He’s better even than Sullivan, and no man can be as good a +player as that without being suspected of crookedness. Of course, I +don’t know all Henninger’s adventures, but I’d stake anything that +he’s as straight as a string. He’s too thoroughbred a sport.” + +The little blond man presently returned to the smoking-room alone, but +Henninger did not reappear. Elliott waited for fifteen or twenty +minutes, and then went on deck. + +The spaces were all deserted, and the electric lights shone on empty +chairs. It was a clear night, and the big funnels loomed against the +sky, rolling out volumes of black smoke. As he walked slowly aft, he +saw a man leaning over the quarter, looking down at the boiling wake +streaked with phosphorescence. It looked like Henninger; drawing +nearer, he saw that he was not mistaken. + +“How’d it come out, old man?” inquired Elliott, sympathetically. +“Hawke and I would have backed you up if you had only let us. It’s an +outrage—” + +“Will you shut up your infernal mouth—and get away from here!” +Henninger interrupted, in a voice of such savage and suppressed fury +that Elliott was absolutely stupefied for a moment. + +Startled and offended, he turned on his heel and walked forward nearly +to the bows, and for a moment he was almost as angry as Henninger had +been. He leaned over the rail and frowned at the creaming water. +Perhaps he had been tactless,—but he could not forgive the ferocious +rebuff that his sympathy had received. But as he stood there, the cool +and calm of the mid-sea night began to work insensibly upon his +temper, and he began to take a more lenient view of the offence. +Glancing aft, he saw that Henninger had vanished. There was no one +anywhere in sight but the officer on the bridge and a lookout on the +forecastle-head; and no sound but the labouring beat of the +propellers. + +He remained there for some time, for he heard eight bells struck, and +the changing of the watch. Presently a hand touched his shoulder +lightly. + +“Here, old chap, smoke this,” said Henninger, thrusting a large cigar +wrapped in silver foil into his hand. “I was rude to you just now, but +you came on me at a bad moment. Forgive me, won’t you?” + +“I oughtn’t to have said anything. It wasn’t any of my business, +anyway,” said Elliott, throwing away the remains of his resentment, +for when Henninger chose to be ingratiating he was able to exercise a +singular charm. + +“I’m glad that little fool didn’t hit me,” went on Henninger, slowly. +“There would have been trouble. He isn’t such a fool, either. His +memory is excellent.” + +“You don’t mean that—really—” began Elliott, and stopped. + +“Elliott, I don’t know whether you’ve been in hard luck often enough +and hard enough to get a correct light on what I’m going to tell you. +No man knows anything about life, or human nature, or himself, till +he’s been up against it,—banged up against it, knocked down and +stepped on,—and the knowledge isn’t worth having at the price. + +“This was two years ago. I had just come up from Tampico, and I’d been +two weeks in a Mexican jail because I wouldn’t pay blackmail to the +governor’s private secretary. I had just fifty-seven dollars, I +remember, when I landed in New Orleans, but I had a good thing up my +sleeve, and I went straight up to St. Louis to see some men I knew +there and interest them in it. Two of them came back with me to New +Orleans. I was to show them the workings of the thing—it doesn’t +matter now what it was—and if they liked it, they were to put up the +capital. + +“We came down the river by boat. There’s a good deal of card-playing +on those river boats yet, though nothing to what it used to be, of +course, and we all three got into a game, along with a young sport +from Memphis, who had been flashing a big roll all over the boat. Now +I can play poker a little, and our limit was low, but I hadn’t any +luck that day. I couldn’t get anything better than two pairs, and my +pile kept going down till it reached pretty near nothing. All the +money I had in the world was on that table, and my future, too, for I +had to keep my end up with those capitalists. I was a fool to go into +the game, but I couldn’t pull out. About that time I happened to feel +a long, thin, loose splinter on the under side of the table. I don’t +think that I’d have done it but for that, but I took to holding out an +ace or two, sticking them under that splinter. I was beginning to get +my money back, when—I don’t know how it happened—the fellow at my left +suspected something, leaned over and reached under the table and +pulled out the aces. + +“They don’t shoot for that sort of thing on the river any more, but it +was nearly as bad. I got off at the next landing. All the passengers +were lined up to hoot the detected card-sharper. This fellow on board +here was one of them.” + +The brief, staccato sentences seemed to burn the speaker’s lips. +Elliott could find nothing to say, and there was a strained silence. +He could not see Henninger’s face in the dusk, but presently he gently +touched his shoulder. + +Henninger started nervously. “Let’s walk about a bit,” he proposed in +a more natural voice. “It’s too pleasant to go below.” + +They made the circumference of the decks two or three times at a +vigorous pace, and without a word spoken. + +“Oh, I don’t blame them—not a bit!” said Henninger, suddenly. “It’s +all a part of the game. We fellows are against the world at large; we +don’t give much mercy and we don’t expect any. Only—well, I don’t +know, but when I go up against these people who’ve always had plenty +of money, who’ve lived all their lives in a warmed house, all their +fat, stuffy lives, afraid of everything they don’t understand, and +understanding damned little, and getting no nearer to life than a +cabbage,—when I have to listen to those people talking honour and +morality, sometimes it sends me off my head. What do they know of it? +They haven’t blood enough for anything worse than a little respectable +cheating and lying, and they thank God they’ve always had strength to +resist temptation. They don’t know what temptation is. Let ’em get out +on the ragged edge of things, and get some of the knocks that shuffle +a man’s moralities up like a pack of cards. Something that they never +tried is to come into a strange town on a rough night, stony broke, +and see the lights shining in the windows, and not know any more than +a stray dog where you’re going to fill your belly or get out of the +rain. + +“There are worse things than that, too, for when a man gets down to +rock-bottom, he doesn’t have to keep up appearances, and he can drop +his dignity temporarily and wait for better days. But when it comes to +being broke in a town where you’re known, where you’re trying to put +through some business, sleeping at ten-cent hotels and trying to make +a square meal out of a banana, and sitting round good hotels for +respectability’s sake, and cleaning your collar with a piece of +bread,—that’s about as near hell as a man gets in this world, and he +comes to feel that he wouldn’t stick at anything to get out of it.” + +“I know,” said Elliott, retrospectively. + +“Of course, that’s all part of the game, too. If we stuck to the +beaten track, there wouldn’t be any of this trouble. But, great +heavens! could I settle down at a desk in an office and hope for a +raise of ten dollars a month if I was industrious and obliging! Or if +I went home,—but I’d suffocate in about ten days. I’ve got caught in +this sporting life, and it’s too late to get out of it, and I couldn’t +live without it, anyway. But there’s nothing in it—nothing at all. +You’ve got a good profession, Elliott, and I give it to you straight, +you’ll be wise to go back and work at it, and let this chasing easy +money alone. Hawke’s another case. It makes me sorry to see him. He’s +bright; he’s got as cold a nerve as I ever saw, and he’s young enough +to amount to something yet, but he’s fooling away his life. I expect +he made some kind of a smash at home; I don’t know; he’s as dumb as a +clam about his affairs,—and so am I generally. As for Sullivan, I +don’t care; he’s a fellow that’ll never let anything carry him where +he don’t want to go. But if it was any good talking to you and Hawke, +I’d tell you to take a fool’s advice and let grafting alone.” + +Elliott was at first amazed by this outburst, and then profoundly +moved. It was the last thing to be expected from Henninger, but his +equilibrium had been completely upset by the scene in the +smoking-room, and he had not yet regained it. + +“You’re forgetting the _Clara McClay_. You don’t propose that we give +that up, do you?” Elliott remarked. + +“I had forgotten it for a moment,” admitted Henninger. “No, we won’t +give that up; and I’ll tell you plainly, Elliott, that we’re going to +have that bullion if we have to cut throats for it. If this mate gets +there first I’ll run him down alone, but I’ll have it. This thing +seems like a sort of last chance. I’ve been playing in hard luck for a +long time, and I’ve had about as much as I can stand, and this will be +cash enough to retire on, if we can get it. Elliott, don’t you +see,”—gripping his arm,—“that we’ve simply _got_ to get to that wreck +first?” + +“We’re all just as keen as you are,” said Elliott. “You won’t find us +hanging back.” + +“Yes, I know. But you’re younger, and it don’t seem to matter so much +as it does to me,” Henninger responded in a tone of some depression, +and they made several more rounds of the deck without speaking. At +last Henninger approached the companion stairs. + +“I think I’ll go down to my bunk,” he said. “It strikes me that I’ve +been talking a lot of gallery melodrama to-night, but that affair in +the smoking-room rather got on my nerves. Don’t repeat any of all this +to the other boys. I’ve given you a lot of better advice than I was +ever able to use myself. Good night.” + +He disappeared with a smile, and Elliott went back to the rail to +smoke another cigar, filled with a painful mingling of affection and +pity for this unrestful spirit. He foresaw what he himself might be +like in ten years. Thus far, his memory held nothing worse than +misfortune, nothing of dishonour; but dishonour is apt to be the +second stage of misfortune. “Go back to work, and let this chasing +easy money alone,” Henninger had said, and he was right. It was the +advice that Margaret had given him, and that he had vowed to take. But +there was still the gold-ship, and Elliott thrilled anew with the +irrepressible sense of adventure and romance. + +Next morning Henninger had regained his customary equipoise, and +Elliott could hardly believe his recollection of last night’s +conversation. Henninger gave an account of the accusation and of his +defence very briefly to his friends. The captain, acting as arbiter, +had ordered that Henninger should refrain from playing cards for +stakes while on board, under penalty of being posted as a sharper. On +the other hand, the accuser was warned not to make his story public, +as there was no corroborative evidence of its truth. + +In spite of this caution, some word of the affair spread through the +ship, and the rest of the voyage was not pleasant. Henninger found +himself an object of suspicion; passengers were shy of speaking to +him; no one was openly rude, but the atmosphere was hostile. His three +friends stood by him, incurring thereby a share of the popular +animosity, and Henninger came and went in saloon and smoking-room, to +all appearances as undisturbed and indifferent as possible. Perhaps no +one but Elliott knew how much wrath and contempt was hidden under that +iron exterior, but every one of the four was glad when the hawsers +were looped on the Southampton docks. + +It would be two days before the first Castle liner would sail for Cape +Town, and they went over to London, where the last arrangements were +completed. Elliott was to make for Bombay with all speed, and he drew +two hundred pounds above the price of his ticket for expenses. He was +to report by cable to Henninger at Zanzibar whether he discovered +anything or not. Elliott would also be notified in case of +developments at the other end, though it was very possible that it +might be necessary for the rest to take sudden action without waiting +him to rejoin them, and in such event the plunder was to be shared +alike. + +Twenty-four hours later Elliott saw his friends aboard the big steamer +at Southampton, amid a crowd of army officers, correspondents, weeping +female relatives, Jews, and speculators, who were bound for the seat +of the still smouldering war. Elliott himself returned to London, +crossed to Paris, took the Orient Express, and was hurried across +Europe and the length of Italy to Brindisi, where he caught the +mail-steamer touching there on her way to Bombay. + + + + + CHAPTER VIII. THE MAN FROM ALABAMA + + +Elliott found the atmosphere on the big Peninsular and Oriental liner +different from anything he had ever encountered before. The ship was +full of Anglo-Indian people, army officers, civil servants, and +merchants returning to the East, and whose conversation was composed +of English slang and exotic phrases of a foreign tongue. The crew were +mostly Lascars of intolerable filthiness, and there were innumerable +Indian maids—ayahs, Elliott supposed them to be—whom he met +continually about the ship on mysterious errands of comfort to their +mistresses. There were queer dishes at dinner, where Elliott made +himself disagreeably conspicuous on the first evening by wearing a +sack coat; and the talk ran upon subjects which he had previously +encountered only in the works of Mr. Kipling. + +Most of these passengers had come on board at Southampton and had +settled so comfortably together that Elliott felt himself an intruder. +He was distinctly an “outsider;” and he found it hard to scrape +acquaintance with these healthy, well-set-up and apparently +simple-minded young Englishmen, who seemed too candid to be natural. +It was even more impossible to know how to approach the peppery +veterans, who nevertheless were seen to converse jovially enough with +folk of their own sort. He was distinctly lonely; he was almost +homesick. His mind was perplexed with the object of his voyage, of +which he felt the responsibility to a painful degree, so there were +few things in his life which he ever enjoyed less than the passage +from Brindisi to Alexandria. + +At Port Said another half-dozen passengers came on board. Elliott took +them all to be English, apparently of the tourist class, travelling +around the world on circular tickets. One of them was sent to share +Elliott’s stateroom, much to his annoyance, but the man proved to be +entirely inoffensive, a dull, respectable green-grocer with the strict +principles of his London suburb, who was taking his daughter on a long +southern sea voyage by medical advice. His sole desire was to return +to his early radishes, and he spent almost all his waking hours in +sitting dumbly beside his daughter on the after deck, a slight, pale +girl of twenty, whose incessant cough sounded as if sea air had been +prescribed too late. + +It was very hot as the steamer pushed at a snail’s pace through the +canal. The illimitable reaches of honey-coloured sand seemed to gather +up the fierce sun-rays and focus them on the ship. The awnings from +stem to stern afforded little relief, and the frilled punkahs sweeping +the saloon tables only stirred the heated air. At night the ship threw +a portentous glare ahead from the gigantic search-light furnished by +the Canal Company, and in the close staterooms it was impossible to +sleep. Many of the men walked the deck or dozed in long chairs, and at +daybreak there was an undress parade when the imperturbable Lascars +turned the hose on a couple of dozen passengers lined against the +rail. Then there was a little coolness and it was possible to think of +breakfast, before the African sun became again a flaming menace. + +It was scarcely better when they reached the Red Sea, where, however, +they were able to move at better speed. They had nearly completed this +Biblical transit, when a mirage of white-capped mountains floating +aerially upside down appeared over the red desert in the south, and +all the passengers crowded to the starboard rail to look at it. +Elliott had moved to the bow, and was staring idly at the strangely +coloured low coast, red and pink and orange, spotted with crags of +basalt as black as iron. + +“It would remind a man of Arizona, wouldn’t it?” a voice drawled +languidly at his elbow. + +Elliott wheeled, a little startled. Leaning on the rail beside him was +a young man whom he remembered as having come aboard at Port Said with +the globe-trotters. He was attired in white flannels and wore a peaked +cap, but the voice was unmistakably American, and Elliott felt certain +that it had been developed south of the Ohio River. + +“I never was in Arizona, but I’ve seen the same kind of thing in New +Mexico,” he answered. “How did you know that I had been in the +Southwest?” + +“There’s nothing but the Bad Lands that’ll give a man that far-away +pucker about the eyes,” said the other. “And anybody could pick you +out for an American among all these Britishers. We’re the only Yankees +on board, I reckon. I don’t mind calling myself a Yankee here, but I +wouldn’t at home. I’m from Alabama, sir.” + +“I thought you were from the South. I’m a Marylander myself,” replied +Elliott. + +“Is that so? I’m mighty glad to hear it. We’ll have to moisten +that—two Southerners so far from home. My name is Sevier.” + +Elliott gave his name in return, and permitted himself to be led aft. +He looked more closely at his new acquaintance as they sat down at a +table in the stuffy cubby-hole that passes for a smoking-room on the +Indian mail-steamers. Sevier was a boyish-looking fellow of perhaps +thirty, short, slight, and dark, with a small dark moustache, and a +manner that was inexpressibly candid and ingratiating. In time it +might come to seem smooth to the point of nausea; at present it +appeared offhand enough, and yet courteous—a manner of which the South +alone has preserved the secret—and Elliott in his growing loneliness +was delighted to find so agreeable a fellow traveller. + +The talk naturally fell upon Southern matters, drifted to the West and +South again to Mexico and the Gulf. Sevier seemed to display an +unusual knowledge of these localities, though Elliott was unable to +check his statements, and he explained that he had been a newspaper +correspondent in Central America for a New Orleans daily, the _Globe_. + +“The _Globe_?” exclaimed Elliott, recollecting almost forgotten names. +“Then you must know Jackson, the night editor. I used to work with him +in Denver.” + +“I’ve met him. But, you see, I was hardly ever in the office, nor in +the city, either. I always worked on the outside.” + +“The _Globe_ had a man in San Salvador last year, named Wilcox, I +think,” Elliott continued, recalling another fact. + +“Yes. I reckon he was before me. San Salvador—I sunk a heap of money +there!” + +“Mining?” + +“Yes—or not exactly actually mining. I got a concession for a sulphur +mine, and I was going to sell it in New York. It was a mighty good +mine, too. There would have been dollars in it, and it cost me five +thousand to get it. You know how concessions are got down there, I +expect?” + +“How did it pan out?” + +“It never panned out at all, sir. There was a revolution next month, +and the new government annulled everything the old one had done. I +hadn’t the money to go through the business over again, but I did make +something out of the revolution, after all.” + +“How?” + +“Selling rifles to the revolutionists. I didn’t think at the time that +I was helping to beat my own game. There’s money in revolutionizing, +too. Down there a man can’t keep clear of graft, you know; it’s in the +air.” + +In spite of the apologetic tone of the last sentence, Elliott +recognized the mental attitude of the adventurer, which was becoming +very familiar to him. He had heard a good deal from Henninger of the +business of supplying a revolution with war material, in which +Henninger had participated more than once. As often as not, it is done +by buying up the officers of a ragged government regiment, and +transferring, sometimes not only the rifles and cartridges but also +the officers and men as well, to the equally ragged force in +opposition. + +But if Sevier were an adventurer he was certainly the smoothest +specimen of the fraternity that Elliott had yet encountered. And why +should such a man be going to India, surely a most unpromising field +for the industrious chevalier. As if in answer to the mental inquiry, +Sevier announced that he was going to obtain material for a series of +magazine articles upon the East, as well as for a number of newspaper +letters which he proposed to “syndicate” to half a dozen dailies as +special correspondence. + +“And I’ll have to spend the next six months mixing up with this sort +of fellows,” he lamented, waving his hand toward a group of +Anglo-Indians with seasoned complexions who were deep in “bridge” at a +neighbouring table. “I’m too American, or too Southern, or something, +to know how to get on with those chaps. I reckon it’s the fault of my +education. I can’t drink their drinks, and I never learned to play +whist right, and I’ve told them my best stories, and they took about +as well as the Declaration of Independence. I expect I’ll be right +glad when I get back where I can see a game of baseball and play +poker. Do you play poker at all?” + +“Not on shipboard. I find it’s liable to make me seasick,” replied +Elliott, a trifle grimly. + +The last apparently careless question had, he thought, given him the +clue to the secret of his companion’s presence on board, though +professional gamblers seldom operate upon the Eastern steamship lines. + +“I’ll give you a bit of advice, too,” he added. “Don’t start any +little game on board, unless it’s a very little one, indeed. These +boats aren’t as sporty as the Atlantic liners.” + +Sevier stared a moment, and then burst out laughing. + +“Oh, I’m no card crook,” he said, without showing any offence. “I +didn’t want to skin you. I’m the worst poker player you ever saw, but +I felt somehow like opening jackpots. I’ll play penny-ante with you +all the evenin’, and donate the proceeds to a Seaman’s Home, if you +like.” + +Elliott declined this invitation to charity, but he sat chatting for a +long time with the young Alabaman. His suspicions were by no means +lulled, but, after all, as he reflected, he would be neither Sevier’s +victim nor his confederate, and, though he did not know it, he was +acquiring something of the adventurer’s lax notions of morality. + +But it was pleasant to talk again on American matters, and to hear the +familiar Southern opinions, couched in the familiar Southern drawl. It +would, besides, have been difficult to find anywhere a more pleasant +fellow traveller than Sevier. He possessed a fund of reminiscence and +anecdote of an experience that seemed, in spite of his youth, to have +been almost universal, and of a world in which he appeared to have +played many parts. Newspaper work was his latest part, and he spoke +little of it. Indeed, he was anything but autobiographical, and his +tales were almost wholly of the adventures of other men, whose +irregularities he viewed with the purely objective and unmoral +interest of the man of the world who is at once a cynic and an +optimist. Above all, he seemed to have an eye for opportunities of +easy money which was more like a down-easter than a man from the Gulf +Coast, though he confessed frankly that he was just then in hard luck. + +“I’ve made fortunes,” he said. “If I had half the money that I’ve +blown in like a fool, I wouldn’t be a penny-a-liner now.” + +This remark forcibly appealed to Elliott; he had said the same thing +many times to himself. + +It became a trifle cooler after the steamer passed the dessicated +headland of Aden and put out upon the broad Indian Ocean. The weather +remained fine, and there was every prospect of a quick passage to +Bombay. With the lowering of the temperature, the irrepressible +British instinct for games reappeared, and there were deck quoits, +deck cricket, blindfold races, and a violent sort of tournament in +which the combatants aimed to knock one another with pillows from a +spar which they sat astride. Under the humanizing influence of these +diversions Elliott found his fellow passengers less unapproachable +than they had seemed, but he still spent many hours with Sevier, for +whom he had conceived a genuine liking. The two Americans were further +bound together by a common conviction of the absurdity of violent +exertion with the thermometer in the eighties. + +On the third day after leaving the Red Sea, Elliott happened to pass +down the main stairway as the third officer was putting up the daily +chart of the ship’s progress. He paused to look at it. The steamer was +then, it occurred to him, close to the point where the Italian ship +had picked up the mate of the _Clara McClay_. + +He took from his pocket a map which he had made, and consulted it. +This map showed the hypothetical course of the wrecked gold-ship in a +red line, with dotted lines indicating the probable course of the +driftings of both the mate’s boat and Bennett’s raft. As nearly as he +could judge, the liner must indeed be at that moment almost upon the +spot where the secret of the position of the wrecked treasure was +saved, in the person of the Irishman. + +He was still looking at the map when Sevier came quietly down the +stairs, paused on the step above him, and glanced over his shoulder. +Elliott dropped the map to his side, and then, ashamed of this +childish attempt at concealment, raised it again boldly. + +“Layin’ off a chart of your voyages?” inquired Sevier. “Ever been down +there?” putting his finger on the Mozambique Channel. + +“No, I never was,” answered Elliott, somewhat startled at the +question. + +“Neither was I. I’ve been told that there’s no more dangerous water in +the world. They say the currents run like a mill-race through that +channel, in different directions, according to the tides. The coast’s +covered with wreckage. I thought you might have sailed along that red +line you’ve marked.” + +“No, I don’t know anything about the place,” Elliott denied again, +putting the map in his pocket. + +“Thinking of going there?” + +“Not at present.” + +“I wish I could find out something definite about the islands in that +channel. Nobody knows anything about them at all except the Arab coast +pirates, and they keep all the pickings there are to themselves.” + +“You’ll find better pickings in India, you vulture,” cried Elliott, +with an easy laugh. + +He was far from feeling easy, however, and for a time he was sharply +suspicious of the Alabaman. Yet it was highly improbable that any one +else knew the secret of the _Clara McClay’s_ cargo and of her end; and +it was practically impossible that any one knew more of the wreck than +he did himself. Certainly Sevier could have no more definite +information, or he would be sailing to the Madagascar coast instead of +to India. Elliott persuaded himself that the young Alabaman’s +questions had been prompted by mere curiosity, and that their +startling appositeness was the result of coincidence. Still, the +incident revived his sense of the need for haste, and renewed his +eagerness to discover the traces of Burke, the brutal mate, the one +man living who knew the whole secret of the drowned millions. + +Rapidly as the good ship rolled off the knots, her slowness irritated +him. He counted the hours, almost the minutes, and it was hard to +contain his impatience till they came at last in sight of the low, +green-brown Indian shore. + +Bombay came in sight on the port bow that evening, a strange sky-line +of domes and squares. Heat lightning flickered low on the landward +horizon, casting the city into sharp silhouette against the sky, and +from some festival ashore the clash and boom of cymbals and the +terrific blare of conches rolled softened across the water. + +For hours after the steamer had anchored, the English civil and +military servants stayed on deck to look at the field of their coming +labours, and all night long the ship resounded with the clacking roar +of the derricks clearing the baggage hold. + +“Poor devils!” murmured Sevier, looking at the English clustered along +the rail. “I wonder how many of the passengers on this boat will ever +see England again—or America, either.” + +And Elliott, thinking of his perilous mission, wondered also. + + + + + CHAPTER IX. ON THE TRAIL + + +Elliott had expected to find an Oriental city; he had looked for a +sort of maze of black alleys, ivory lattices, temples, minarets, and a +medley of splendour and squalor; but in his surprise at the reality he +said that Bombay was almost like an American city. There was squalor +and splendour enough, but they were not as he had imagined them; and +at the first sight of the wide, straight, busy streets he felt a great +relief, realizing that his detective work would not have to be pursued +under such “Arabian Night” conditions as he had anticipated. + +At the landing-stage he surrendered himself to a white-robed and +barefoot native runner, who claimed to represent Ward’s Anglo-Indian +Hotel, and this functionary at once bundled him into a ricksha which +started off at a trot. So unfamiliar a mode of locomotion revived some +of Elliott’s primal expectations of the East, and the crowds that +filled the street from house-front to house-front helped to strengthen +them. The populace, as Elliott observed with surprise, were nearly as +black as the negroes at home, clad in every variety and colour of +costume, brilliant as a garden of tulips, and through the dense mass +his ricksha man forced a passage by screaming unintelligible abuse at +the top of his voice. Occasionally a black victoria clove its slow way +past him, bearing a white-clad Englishman, who gazed unseeingly over +the swarming mass; and Elliott for the first time breathed the smell +of the East, that compound of heat and dust and rancid butter and +perspiring humanity that somehow strangely suggests the yellow +marigold flowers that hang in limp clusters in the marketplaces of all +Bengal. + +At the hotel, a gigantic and imposing structure, he was received by a +Eurasian in a frock coat and no shoes, who assigned him to a vast +bedroom, cool and darkened and almost large enough to play tennis in. +Elliott examined the unfamiliar appurtenances with some curiosity, and +then took a delicious dip in the bathroom that opened from his +chamber. He then changed his clothes and went down-stairs, determined +to lose no time in visiting the United States Consulate. + +The mate of the _Clara McClay_, as the only surviving officer, was +required to report the circumstances of the loss of his ship to the +American consul; and self-interest, as much as law, should equally +have impelled him to do so. For by reporting the foundering of the +steamer in deep water he would clear himself of responsibility, and at +the same time close the case and check any possible investigation into +the whereabouts of the wreck. + +But Elliott learned at once that the white man in India is not +supposed to exert himself. The manager of the house, to whom he +applied for information, placed him in a long cane chair while a +ricksha was being called, and then installed him in the baby-carriage +conveyance, giving elaborate instructions in the vernacular to the +native motor. And again the vivid panorama of the streets unrolled +before Elliott’s eyes under the blinding sun-blaze,—the closely packed +crowd of white head-dresses, the nude torsos, bronze and black, the +gorgeous silks, and violent-hued cottons rolling slowly over the +earthen pavement that was packed hard by millions of bare feet. + +The gridiron shield with the eagle looked home-like to Elliott when he +set eyes on it, but he found the official representative of the United +States to be a brass-coloured Eurasian, who seemed to have some +recollection of the _Clara McClay_ or her mate, but was either unable +or unwilling to impart any information. He was the consular secretary; +the consul was out at the moment, but he returned just as Elliot was +turning away in disappointment. He was a rubicund gentleman of middle +age, from Ohio, as Elliott presently learned, and proud of the fact. +He wore a broad straw hat of American design—Heaven knows how he had +procured it in that land—and, to Elliott’s unbounded amazement, he was +accompanied by his own steamer acquaintance, the Alabaman Sevier. + +Elliott nodded to Sevier, trying to conceal his consternation, and was +for going away immediately, but the secretary was, after all, only too +anxious to give assistance. + +“Be pleased to wait a moment, sir. This is the consul. Mr. Guiger, +this gentleman is asking if we know anything of the position of the +mate of the wrecked American steamer, called the _Clara McClay_.” + +“His position? By Jupiter, I wish I knew it!” ejaculated the consul, +mopping his face, but showing a more than physical warmth. “This other +gentleman here has just been asking me the same thing, and I’ve had a +dozen wires from the owners in Philadelphia.” + +Elliott was thunderstruck at this revelation of Sevier’s interest in +the matter, but it was too late to draw back. + +“I was asked to make inquiries by relatives of one of the crew,” he +said, mendaciously. “Has the mate showed up here at all?” + +“Showed up? Of course he did. He had to, by Jupiter! But it was his +business to keep in touch with me till the case was gone into and +settled. He gave me an address on Malabar Hill,—too swell a locality +for a sailorman, thinks I,—and, sure enough, when I sent there for +him, they had never heard of him. I’ve not set eyes on him since. +He’ll lose his ticket, that’s all.” + +“What sort of a report did he make?” + +“Why, nothing. Said the ship was rotten, and her cargo shifted in a +gale and some of her rivets must have drawn, and she foundered. Every +one went down but himself,—all drunk, I suppose. But he didn’t even +make a sworn statement. Said he’d come back next day, and I was in a +hurry myself, and I let him go, like a fool.” + +“You don’t know whether he’s still in the city?” + +“I don’t know anything. I’ve set the police to look for him, but these +black-and-tan cops don’t amount to anything. He may be half-way to +Australia by this time. Like as not he is.” + +“Where did he say his ship foundered?” asked Sevier, speaking for the +first time. + +“Somewhere in the Mozambique Channel, in deep water. He didn’t know +exactly. Along about latitude twelve, south, he said. Went down like a +lump of lead.” + +Elliott thought of her weighty cargo, and, glancing up, he met +Sevier’s eye fixed keenly on him. + +“Well, if the man can’t be found, I suppose that’s the end of it,” he +said, carelessly, and turned away again. + +“Sorry I can’t help you, gentlemen,” responded the consul. “If I get +any news, I’ll let you know. You don’t happen to have brought out any +American newspapers, do you—Chicago ones, for choice?” + +Elliott was devoid of these luxuries, and Sevier followed him out to +the street, where the ricksha was still waiting. + +“Is that your perambulator?” inquired the Alabaman. “Let’s walk a +little. The streets aren’t so crowded here.” + +“It’s undignified for a white man to walk in this country, but I’ll +make my ricksha man follow me,” said Elliott. “Besides, I couldn’t +find my way back to the hotel without him.” + +They walked for several minutes in silence down the side of the street +that was shaded by tall buildings of European architecture. + +“Were you ever at a New Orleans Mardi Gras? Hanged if this town +doesn’t remind me of it!” Sevier suddenly broke silence. “By the way, +I didn’t know that you were interested in the _Clara McClay_.” + +“I’m not,” said Elliott, on the defensive. “I was simply making +inquiries on behalf of other people, to get some details about her +loss. You seem to have more interest than that in her yourself.” + +“Oh, my interest is a purely business one,” replied Sevier, lightly. +“I know her owners pretty well, and they wired me from Philadelphia to +find out something about her. I found the cablegram waiting for me +when I got here. Funny thing that the mate should disappear that way. +Something crooked, eh?” + +“Possibly. Queer things happen on the high seas. It looks as if he +were afraid of something.” + +“Or after something. I’ve heard of ships being run ashore for +insurance.” + +“But the _Clara McClay_ didn’t run ashore,” Elliott reminded him. “She +foundered in deep water, you know.” + +“Oh, yes, she foundered in deep water,” drawled Sevier. “Have you got +the spot marked on your map?” + +This attack was so sudden and so unexpected that Elliott floundered. + +“That map you have in your pocket, with her course marked in red,” +Sevier pursued, relentlessly. + +“That map you saw on the steamer? That wasn’t a chart of the _Clara +McClay’s_ course. Or, at least,” Elliott went on, recovering his wind, +“I don’t suppose it is, accurately. I drew it to see if I could make +out where she must have sunk, by a sort of dead reckoning. You see, I +felt a certain interest in her on account of the inquiries I was +commissioned to make. Nobody knows exactly what her course was.” + +“Nobody but the mate, and he’s skipped the country. Well, I hope you +find him, for the sake of the bereaved kinfolk.” + +He turned a humourous and incredulous glance at Elliott, and its +invitation to frankness was unmistakable. Had Elliott been alone in +the affair he might have responded, and taken his companion as a +partner. But he had not the right to do that; there were men enough to +share the plunder already; but he was possessed with curiosity to +learn what Sevier knew, and, above all, what he wanted. Sevier had +learned nothing from Bennett; he could have learned nothing from the +mate, else he would not be in pursuit of him. How then could he know +what cargo the _Clara McClay_ had carried? + +They walked a little further, talking of the features of interest like +a pair of Cook’s tourists, while the ricksha man marched stolidly +behind. + +“Queer that Burke didn’t know where she went down!” said Sevier, as if +to himself. + +“Who’s Burke?” asked Elliott, on the alert this time. + +“The mate of the _Clara McClay_. Didn’t you know his name? I got it +from the owners. They’re wild about him; swear they’ll have his +certificate taken from him. It seems he hasn’t reported a word to +them, and all they know is a newspaper item saying that he was picked +up from the wreck.” + +“Was all that in your cablegram?” demanded Elliott, with malice. + +“They told me that in Philadelphia, before I left,” Sevier replied, +imperturbably. + +This was just possible, but, after a rapid mental calculation of +dates, Elliott decided that it was unlikely. Besides, why should the +owners have cabled, if they had seen their messenger just before he +sailed? But he had already arrived at the conviction that Sevier’s +explanation of his interest in the treasure-ship was as fictitious as +his own. + +“Isn’t it likely,” he said, easily, “that the mate was drunk and +navigated her out of her course, and ran her ashore? He knows that +he’s responsible for her loss, and he’s afraid to face a court of +inquiry.” + +“He’ll sure lose his certificate anyway, if he doesn’t show up. +Besides, he didn’t run her ashore. She went down in deep water.” + +“Sure enough, she went down in deep water,” Elliott acquiesced. A +strong sense of the futility of this fencing stole over him, and he +turned abruptly and beckoned to his ricksha. + +“It’s too hot to walk. I’m going back to my hotel—the Anglo-Indian. +Come around and look me up. Are you going to search for your lost +mate?” + +“Oh, dear, no! I’m not paid for doing that. Besides, I’m going up the +country in a day or so to get stuff for my articles.” + +He watched Elliott into his ricksha, and walked off, Elliott wondered +vainly where. + +He wondered also whether he ought not to keep close to this +smooth-spoken pseudo-journalist, who, he felt sure, was also on the +track of the treasure-ship. But this would hamper him fatally in his +quest for the elusive mate Burke, and this quest was to be Elliott’s +next affair. + +But he had next to no idea just where or how he would look. He was an +inlander; he knew little of the ways of seafaring men ashore, and +nothing at all of this particular city. He plunged boldly into the +search, however, and, as a preliminary, he spent a day in roaming +about the waterfront of Mazagon Bay, entering into conversation with +such white seamen as he came across. But he was acutely conscious that +he made a bungle of this. These men were too far outside his +experience for him to enter into easy relations with them. His +immaculate white flannels were also against him; he received either +too much deference or too little, and he suspected that he was taken +for a detective or a customs officer. He decided that he would have to +assume a less respectable appearance. + +But every one he met professed total ignorance of the _Clara McClay_ +and her mate. Most of the men were transient; they had been in Bombay +for only a few days or weeks, and the arrival of a single man, even +the survivor of a wreck, is too slight an episode to leave any mark +upon such a port as Bombay, where the shipping of a whole world is +gathered. But a vessel is a different thing, and Elliott learned—it +was the whole result of his day’s work—that the Italian steamer +_Andrea Sforzia_, which had picked up Burke’s boat, had sailed a month +ago for Cape Town. + +Had Burke gone with her? No one knew. Elliott thought it most +probable; and in that case the rich grave of the gold-ship must be +rifled already. A feeling of sick failure spread through Elliott’s +system as he realized that the whole quest might have been in vain, +even before they left America. But he cabled to Henninger at Zanzibar: + +“Steamer _Andrea Sforzia_ sailed Cape Town about April 10th, likely +with Burke.” + +Still it might be that the mate had not sailed with the Italian +steamer, after all, and, while awaiting a reply from Zanzibar, Elliott +resumed his detective work. It was good to pass the anxious time, if +it led to no other result. He hired a room in a cheap sailors’ hotel +in Mazagon, where he went every morning to change his white clothes +for a dirty, bluish dungaree slop-suit, which he bought at a low +clothing store, and, thus suitably attired, he was able to pursue his +explorations among the tortuous ways of the old Portuguese settlement +and attract no attention so long as he kept his mouth shut. These +wanderings he often carried far into the night, returning finally to +his dirty room to resume the garb of respectability. + +He saw many strange things in these explorations among the groggeries, +dives, and sailors’ boarding-houses, where the seamen of every +maritime race on earth herded together in their stifling quarter. He +sat in earthen-floored drinking-shops, where Lascars, Norse, Yankees, +Englishmen, and Italians gulped down poisonous native liquors like +water, and quarrelled in a babel of tongues; he leaned over fan-tan +tables in huge, filthy rooms that had been the palaces of merchant +princes; and nightly he saw the tired dancing-girls from the Hills +posture obscenely before an audience of white, yellow, and brown sea +scum, ferociously drunk or stupid with opium. More than once he saw +knives drawn and used, and the blood spurt dark in the candle-light; +and once he had to run for it to avoid being gathered in by the police +along with his companions. But nowhere could he hear anything of what +he sought, and he could find no one who would admit having seen the +mate of the _Clara McClay_. + +He had received no reply from Henninger, and this, perhaps, +illogically reassured him. After a week he had ceased to expect any, +but by this time he had well ceased to believe that Burke was still in +Bombay. If he were there, Elliott did not believe that he could be +found, and he regretted anew that he had not obtained a detailed +description of the man from Bennett. He visited the American consul +again, but that official had no further news, and was able to describe +the mate only as “a big fellow, with a big beard turning gray,” which +was indefinite enough. + +After all, Elliott reflected, the man would be likely to change his +name and to keep apart from other seamen. Surely, if he had been going +to fit out a wrecking expedition, he would have done it long since, +but such an enterprise would certainly have left memories upon the +waterfront. Elliott could not learn that anything of the sort had been +done. Possibly Burke had gone elsewhere to launch his expedition; very +likely he had no money, and had gone elsewhere to obtain it. + +Elliott grew very weary with turning over all these possibilities, and +almost disheartened, but he persisted in his perambulations about the +sailors’ quarter. He was beginning to feel the deadly lassitude which +stealthily grows upon the unacclimated white man in the tropics, and +he would probably have given up the quest in another week, but for a +lucky chance. + +The crush of the crowd had elbowed him into a corner beside a tiny +second-hand clothes-stall near the landing-place of the coasting +steamers, and he gazed idly at the foul-looking seamen’s +clothing—caps, oilskins, sea boots, cotton trousers—that almost filled +the recess in the wall that served for a shop. In the centre lounged +the shopman, apparently half Eurasian and half English Jew, who looked +as if he clothed himself from his own stock in trade. + +As Elliott was trying to disengage himself from the crowd, he knocked +down a suit of oilskins, and stooped to pick it up. It was an +excellent suit, though considerably worn, and as he rescued the heavy +sou’wester hat, his eye was caught by rude black lettering on the +under side of the peak. It had been done in India ink, and read “J. +Burke, S. S. _Clara McClay_.” + +Elliott stared at the initials, dazzled by his good luck. They must be +the oilskins of the missing mate, who had sold them there. Who else +could have brought clothing from the wreck to Bombay? The shopman, +scenting trade, had crept forward, and was sidling and fawning at +Elliott’s shoulder. + +“Want nice oilskins, Sahib? Ver’ scheap. You shall haf dem for ten +rupee.” + +“I’ll give you five,” said Elliott, carelessly, hanging up the cap. + +“Fif rupee? Blood of Buddha! I pay eight, s’help me Gawd!” + +“Look here,” said Elliott. “I don’t want the oilskins, but I think +they used to belong to a friend of mine, and I’ll give you eight +rupees if you’ll tell me where you got them.” + +The merchant wrinkled his brows, undoubtedly pondering whether he was +in danger of compromising any thief of his acquaintance. + +“I remember,” he presently announced. “You gif me ten rupee?” + +“Ten it is.” + +“I buy dem more than two weeks ago from your friend’s kitmatgar, +Hurris Chunder.” + +Elliott’s heart sank again. “My friend’s a sailorman, and wouldn’t +have a servant.” + +“Hurris Chunder say his master gif dem to him,” insisted the Jew. + +“Can you find Hurris Chunder?” + +“Maybe,” with an avid grin. + +“Here’s your ten rupees,” said Elliott. “I’ll give you ten more if +you’ll manage to have Hurris Chunder here to-night, and he shall have +another ten for telling me what he knows. Does it go?” + +“Yes,” responded the trader, with lightning comprehension of Western +slang. “The Sahib will find Hurris Chunder here to-night. At ten +o’clock.” + +Elliott had already learned the indefinite notions of the East +regarding time, and he did not care to show the impatience he felt, so +he did not arrive at his appointment till nearly eleven o’clock. The +yellow Jew led him to the rear of the tiny shop and introduced him +through an unsuspected door into a small chamber littered with rags, +old clothes, rubbish of copper and brass, and dirty-looking apparatus. +It was here that the merchant ate and slept, and in the middle of the +floor a white-clad figure was squatting, smoking a brass pipe. + +“This is Hurris Chunder, Sahib,” said the Jew, eagerly. + +The native, a golden-complexioned young man, with a somewhat sleepy +Buddha-like face, put down his pipe, and bowed without getting up. + +“Very good,” said Elliott. “Here’s your ten rupees, Israel. Now, get +out. I want to have a little private talk with our friend.” + +The half-caste scuttled into the outer shop and closed the door. + +“Now, then, Hurris, tell me the truth. Where did you steal those +oilskins?” + +Hurris Chunder made a deprecating gesture. “May the Presence pardon +me,” he said, in soft and excellent English. “I did not steal them. My +master, Baker Sahib, gave them to me.” + +“Baker Sahib, indeed!” Elliott murmured. “Where is your master? What +did he look like?” + +“He was a tall, lean, strong sahib, and when he first came he had a +great gray beard. He lived for many days at the Planters’ Hotel, and I +was unworthily his kitmatgar.” + +This was another surprise, for the Planters’ was an excellent, quiet, +and rather high-priced hotel, and the mate was presumably short of +funds. + +“He had money, then?” + +“He had much money, English money. He was a very generous Sahib.” + +“Well, you’ll find me a generous Sahib, too, if you act on the level. +Here’s your ten rupees. Baker Sahib is at the Planters’, then?” + +“No, Sahib, he went away. He gave me the oilskins when he went. He +sailed on a ship, a great black steamer. He went to England.” + +“To England? Are you sure it wasn’t Africa?” + +“Yes, Sahib, to Africa.” + +“What port was she bound for?” + +“Sahib, before God, I do not know. I think London.” + +“London? You said Africa. Wasn’t it America?” + +“The Sahib is right.” + +“Or Australia?” + +“If the Sahib pleases, it is so,” was the submissive response. + +“You old fraud!” said Elliott. “You don’t know where he went. Are you +sure he went away at all?” + +“Yes, Sahib. He cut off his great beard, and I took his luggage to the +ship for him,—a great black steamer, full of English. I do not know +the name of the ship.” + +“Cut off his beard, eh? And you don’t know what ship it was, or where +she went? Well, never mind, I can find that out myself. Your knowledge +is distinctly limited, Hurris, but you’re a good boy, and I believe +you’ve given me the key to the situation. It’s worth another rupee or +two. Good-bye.” + +He tossed the native three more rupees, and went to change his +clothes, bursting with excited impatience. To-morrow he would know the +mate’s destination. + +As early as possible the next morning, he sought the Planters’ Hotel, +and found that Baker Sahib had indeed been there since the 18th of +March. This was the day after the arrival of the _Andrea Sforzia_ at +Bombay, and the coincidence of the dates was corroborative evidence. +He had left on the 27th of March, and his destination was unknown at +the hotel. + +An examination of the shipping-lists, however, showed that on March +27th three passenger steamers had sailed from Bombay,—the _Punjaub_, +for London; the _Imperadora_, for Southampton, and the _Prince of +Burmah_ for Hongkong. Elliott hastened to the city passenger offices +of these lines, and begged permission to inspect the passenger-lists +of their ships sailing on that day. The sheets of the _Punjaub_ and of +the _Imperadora_ proved devoid of interest, but half-way down the list +of the _Prince of Burmah’s_ saloon passengers he came upon the name of +Henry Baker. He was booked through to Hongkong. + +The amazing improbability of this almost staggered Elliott. If the +mate knew the secret of the treasure, why should he fly thus to the +very antipodes; and if he knew no guilty secrets, why should he have +secreted himself in Bombay, and cut off his beard for purposes of +disguise? + +Were Baker and Burke identical, after all? But the American consul’s +brief description of the man tallied with that of Hurris Chunder, and +Baker had arrived at the Planters’ Hotel the day after Burke had +arrived in Bombay. Baker had brought with him oilskins from the +wrecked ship, from which he alone had been picked up at that time. + +It must be the mate, Elliott thought. In any case, Baker must know +things of importance to the gold hunters, and Elliott cabled again to +Zanzibar: + +“Mate sailed Hongkong. Am following.” + +Three days later he sailed for Hongkong himself. Up to the very moment +of clearing port he was tormented with apprehensions that Sevier would +appear on board. But, whatever were the researches of the Alabaman, +they were evidently being conducted in a different quarter, and the +weight gradually lifted from Elliott’s mind as the steamer ploughed +slowly down the bay, past the white moored monitors and the little +rocky islets of the peninsula. The treasure hunt had turned out a man +hunt, but he hoped that he was upon the last stage of the long stern +chase. + + + + + CHAPTER X. A LOST CLUE + + +Victoria City on Hongkong Island was almost invisible in hot mist and +rain as the steamer crawled up the roads and anchored off the +sea-wall. The gray harbour water appeared to steam, slopping +sluggishly against her iron sides, and the rain steamed as it fell, so +that the heavy air was a sort of stew of wet and heat and strange +smells of the sea and land. The Lascar and coolie deck-hands were +hurrying out the side-ladder, the water streaming from their faces and +their coarse black hair; but, above the rattle and bustle of +disembarkation, Elliott was aware of the movement of a mighty life +clustered invisibly around him. The hum and roar of an immense city +pierced the fog to landward; on the other side he was conscious of the +presence of innumerable shipping. The noises came hollowly through the +hot air, echoed from the sides of giant vessels; he caught hazy +glimpses of towering forests of yards, and of wet, black funnels. The +air was acrid with the smoke of coal, and the water splashed +incessantly upon the sea-wall from the swift passage of throbbing +steam launches. Away in the mist there was a rapid fusilade of +fire-crackers, and somewhere, apparently from the clouds above the +city, a gun was fired, reverberating through the mist. A ship’s bell +was struck near by, and, before the strokes had ceased, it was taken +up by another vessel, and another, and the sound spread through the +haze, near and far, tinkling in every key: + +“Ting, ting; ting, ting; ting!” It was half-past five o’clock in the +afternoon. + +The rain slackened, and a fresh breeze split the mist. To landward +Elliott beheld a wet, white city climbing irregularly up the sides of +a long serrated mountain. The waterfront along the sea-wall swarmed +with traffic, with rickshaws, sedan-chairs, carts, trucks, gay +umbrellas, coolies, Lascars, Chinese, Indians, Japanese. The port was +crowded with shipping, from war-steamers to high-sterned junks, as +motley as the throng ashore, and it was shot through incessantly with +darting tugs and launches, so that in its activity it reminded him +more of New York bay than of any other roadstead he had ever seen. + +During the voyage from Bombay he had perforce picked up a smattering +of that queer “pidgin-English” so apparently loose and so really +organized a language, and when he stepped upon the Praya he beckoned +authoritatively to a passing palanquin. + +“Boy! You savvy number one good hotel?” + +“Yes, master. Gleat Eastel’ Hotel b’long number one good.” + +“Great Eastern Hotel, then—chop-chop,” Elliott acquiesced, getting +into the chair, and the coolies set off as he had directed, chop-chop, +that is, with speed. They scurried across the Praya, up a narrow cross +street, and came out upon Queen’s Road. They passed the Club and the +post-office and finally set him down at the hotel, which, in spite of +its great size and elaborate cooling devices, he found intolerably hot +and damp. It rained all that evening, till his clothing hung limply +upon him even in the billiard-room of the hotel, and when he went to +his chamber he found the sheets apparently sodden, and damp stood +shining on the walls. Even in the steamy passage through the Malay +Archipelago Elliott had spent no such uncomfortable night as that +first one in Victoria at the commencement of the rainy season. + +A torrential rain was pouring down when he awoke, after having spent +most of the night in listening to the scampering of the cockroaches +about his room. It was a hot rain, and there was no morning freshness +in the air. The room was as damp as if the roof had been leaking, but +he began to realize that this was to be expected and endured in +Victoria for the next three months, and, shuddering damply, he +resolved that he would hunt down his man within a week, if “Baker” +were still upon the island. + +By the time he had finished a very English breakfast, for which he had +no appetite, the rain had ceased, leaving the air even hotter than +before. The sun shone dimly from a watery sky. Elliott felt oppressed +with an aching languor, but he was deeply anxious to finish his work +and get away, so he went out upon the hot streets. + +This time he would not repeat the mistakes of Bombay, and he wasted no +time in adventures about the harbour. He called a sedan-chair and, +having ascertained the names of the leading hotels of the city, he +proceeded to investigate them one by one. + +This search resulted in nothing but disappointment. There was no +record of the man he sought at any hotel, neither at the expensive +ones nor at the second and third class houses to which he presently +descended. The mate might indeed have changed his name again on +landing, though Elliott could think of no reason why he should do so. +At the Eastern Navigation Company’s offices he ascertained that +“Baker” had indeed landed at Victoria from the _Prince of Burmah_, but +nothing was known of his present whereabouts. + +Finally Elliott called upon the American consul, who could give him no +help. He had never heard of the _Clara McClay_ or her mate, but he +turned out to be a Marylander, and he took Elliott to dinner with him, +and made him free of the magnificent Hongkong Club, which is the envy +of all the foreign settlements on the Eastern seas. + +Under the sweeping punkahs in the vast, dusky rooms of the Club a +temperature was maintained more approaching to coolness than Elliott +had yet found in Victoria, and he lounged there for most of the +evening, observing that a great part of the male white population of +the city seemed to do likewise. It had come on to rain again, and the +shuffle of bare feet in the streets mingled with the dismal swish of +the downpour. He had been in Victoria for twenty-four hours, but he +found himself bitterly weary already and oppressed with a certainty of +failure. + +Failure was indeed his lot during the next two weeks, though by an +examination of the shipping-lists he assured himself that Baker had +not sailed from Hongkong in the last two months, at least, not by any +of the regular passenger steamers. It was out of all probability that +he should have gone into the interior of China, and beyond possibility +that he should have organized his wrecking expedition at so distant a +port. Yet it was almost equally beyond the limits of likelihood that +he should have come to Hongkong at all; and it was so beyond the +bounds of sanity that he should voluntarily stay there during the +rains that Elliott was forced to recognize that reason afforded no +clue to the man’s movements. + +To search for a stray straw in a haystack is trying to the temper, +especially when the search must be conducted under the conditions of a +vapour bath. But Elliott sweltered and toiled with a determination +that certainly deserved more success than he attained. He acquired +much knowledge that was new to him in that fortnight. He learned the +names and flavours of many strange and cooling drinks; he learned to +call a chair or a rickshaw when he had to go twenty yards; to hang his +clothes in an airtight safe overnight to save them from the +cockroaches; to scrape the nocturnal accumulation of mould from his +shoes in the morning, and to look inside them for centipedes before he +put them on. He learned to keep matches and writing-paper in glass +jars, to forget that there was such a thing as stiff linen, and to +call it a dry day if the rain occasionally slackened. But he learned +nothing of what he was most anxious to discover. He could find no +trace of either Baker or Burke at the hotels, at the consulates, at +the Club, or along the waterfront, and no man in Victoria admitted to +having ever heard of the _Clara McClay_. + +From time to time he went up to the Peak, behind the city, to gain +refreshment in that social and physical altitude. A house there cost +fifty guineas a month, but every one had it who pretended to comfort +or distinction. It was damp even on the Peak, but it was cool; +Hongkong Bay and Victoria lay almost perpendicularly below, veiled by +a steamy haze, but on the summit fresh breezes played among the China +pines, and Elliott always took the tramcar down the zigzag road again +with fresh courage for an adventure that was daily growing more +intolerably unadventurous. + +The same desire for coolness at any cost led him to take the +coasting-boat for Macao on the second Saturday of his stay. He had +heard much already of the dead Portuguese colony, the Monte Carlo of +the China coast, maintaining its wretched life by the lottery, the +fan-tan houses, and the perpetual issue of new series of postage +stamps for the beguilement of collectors. But Macao is cooler than +Hongkong, and those who cannot afford to live on the Peak find it a +convenient place for the weekend, much to the benefit of the +gaming-tables. + +This being a Saturday, the boat was crowded with Victoria business +men, who looked forward to a relief from the heat and the strain of +the week in the groves and the fan-tan saloons of Macao. The relief +began almost as soon as the roadstead was cleared, and a fresher +breeze blew from a clearer sky, a cool east wind that came from green +Japan. Elliott inhaled it with delight; it was almost as good as the +Peak. + +The verdant crescent of Macao Bay came in sight after a couple of +hours’ steaming. At either tip of the curve stood a tiny and +dilapidated block-house flying the Portuguese banner, and between +them, along the water’s edge, ran a magnificent boulevard shaded by +stately banyan-trees. The whole town appeared embowered in foliage; +the white houses glimmered from among green boughs, and behind the +town rose deeply wooded hills. Scarcely an idler sauntered on the +Praya; a couple of junks slept at the decaying wharves, and deep +silence brooded over the whole shore. + +“Beautiful!” ejaculated Elliott, unconsciously, overjoyed at the sight +of a place that looked as if it knew neither business nor rain nor +heat. + +“Beautiful enough—but dead and accursed,” replied a man who had been +reading in a deck-chair beside him. + +“It looks dead, I must say,” Elliott admitted, glancing again at the +deserted wharves. + +The other man stood up, slipping a magazine into his pocket. He was +gray-haired, tall, and very thin, with a face of reposeful benignity. +The magazine, Elliott observed, was the _Religious Outlook_, of San +Francisco. + +“An American missionary,” he thought; and his heart warmed at the +sight of a fellow countryman. + +“I suppose it is pretty bad,” he said, aloud. “The more reason for men +of your cloth to come over here.” + +The old man looked puzzled for a moment, and then gently shook his +head with a smile. + +“I’m not a missionary, as you seem to think. At least, I ain’t any +more of a missionary than I reckon every man ought to be who tries to +live as he should. I’m just a tired-out Hongkong bookkeeper.” + +“You’re an American, anyway.” + +“You are too, ain’t you?” + +“Certainly I am,” Elliott proclaimed. “And you—” + +The little steamer rammed the wharf with a thump that set everything +jingling on board. The gangplank was run out; the old man dived into +the cabin in evident search for something or some one, and Elliott +lost sight of him, and went ashore. + +Macao slumbered in profound serenity. As soon as the excursionists had +scattered, the Praya Grande was deserted. The great white houses +seemed asleep or dead behind their close green shutters and wrought +iron lattices that reminded Elliott of the Mexican southwest. But the +air was clear and fresh, and it was possible to walk about without +being drenched with perspiration. Elliott strolled, lounged on the +benches in the deserted park, visited the monument to Camoens above +the bay, and finally ate a supper at the only decent hotel in the +place, and enjoyed it thoroughly because it contained neither English +nor Chinese dishes. + +In the evening there was a little more animation. There were strollers +about the streets like himself; the band played in the park, and +through the iron-barred windows he caught occasional mysterious +glimpses of dark and seductive eyes under shadowy lashes. As he +sauntered past the blank front of a great stone house that in the days +of Macao’s greatness had possibly been the home of a prince, he was +stopped by a silk-clad coolie who lounged beside the wide, arched +entrance. + +“Chin-chin master. You wantchee makee one piecey fan-tan pidgin?” + +Elliott had no idea of playing, but he had no objection to watching a +little “fan-tan pidgin,” and he allowed the Celestial “capper” to +introduce him through the iron gate that barred the archway. The arch +was as long as a tunnel, leading to the square _patio_ at the heart of +the house, and here the scene was sufficiently curious. + +Here the fan-tan tables were set, completely hidden from Elliott’s +view by the packed mass of men that stood above them. Over each table +burned a ring of gas-jets; far above them the stars shone clear in the +blue sky beyond the roofless court. Round the _patio_ ran a wide +balcony, dimly lighted, where men were drinking at little tables or +leaning over to look down at the game, and there was a scurrying to +and fro of deft, white-robed Chinese waiters. Round the games there +was absolute silence, except for the click of the counters, the rattle +of the coin, and the impassive voice of the dealer as he announced, +“Number one side!” + +Elliott pushed into the nearest group till he could see the table. +Opposite to him sat the dealer, a yellow Portuguese half-caste, his +hands full of small gilded counters; and beside him the croupier +leaned over shallow boxes of gold, silver, and bills. The centre of +the table was covered with a large square piece of sheet lead, with +each side numbered, and coins scattered about the sides and corners. +The dealer filled both his slim, dirty hands with the gilded counters +and counted them out in little piles of four each. There were two +counters left over. + +“Number two side!” he announced, wearily. + +Those who had staked their money upon the second side of the leaden +square were at once paid three times their stake by the croupier; +those who had placed their bets at the corner of the first and second, +or the second and third were paid even money. The dealer again plunged +his hands into the great heap of shining counters. + +Round the table men of all conditions, nationalities, and colours hung +upon the dropping of the bits of gilded metal. There were coolies +staking their small silver coins, Hongkong merchants, white and +Chinese, putting down sovereigns and Bank of England notes, half a +dozen English men-of-war’s men gambling away their pay, and a few +tourists playing nothing at all. There were Japanese there, Sikhs from +Hongkong, and a couple of wild Malays. The desertion of the streets +was explained. The whole moribund life of the colony throbbed in these +fierce ulcers. + +Elliott had seen the game often enough already to understand it, and +he was determined not to play. The money Henninger had given him was +going fast enough as it was. He watched the game, however, with +considerable interest, and began to predict the numbers mentally. +There was a run on the even numbers. Four came up three times in +succession, then two, then four again, then three, one, and again back +to the even numbers. Elliott watched the handful of gilded discs that +the dealer was counting out, and long before the end was reached he +felt certain of what the remainder would be, and usually he was right. +If he had only played his predictions, he calculated that he would +then have won three or four hundred dollars. He might as well have had +it as not; he remembered the wonderful winning at roulette in +Nashville, and the money in his pocket almost stirred of itself. He +had a couple of sovereigns in his hand before he knew how they came +there, but it was too late to play them on that deal. + +He waited, therefore, and elbowed himself through the crowd to be +nearer the table. This change in position brought him close behind the +shoulder of a tall man with gray hair, who was leaning anxiously +across the table as the gilded counters slipped through the dealer’s +delicate fingers. Elliott glanced abstractedly aside at the man’s +face, and the shock of surprise made him forget the game. + +It was certainly his clerical-looking friend of the steamer, though +his face no longer wore its expression of sweetness and repose. He was +desperately intent on the game, that was evident. As the counters were +cast out his lips moved counting “one, two, three, four!” He had his +hand full of gold coins, and three sovereigns lay before him on number +two. + +“Number four side!” the dealer proclaimed. + +The old man groaned audibly. The croupier swept in the losing stakes +and paid out the winning ones with incredible celerity. There was a +pause, while fresh bets were made. The old man looked from one side of +the square to another with agonized perplexity, fingering his coin. +Finally he put down three sovereigns on the fourth side, and almost +immediately changed his mind and shoved them across to the third. + +Elliott did not play. The surprise of this encounter had brought him +to himself, and he watched the man, wondering. It was plain that the +old man was no gambler; he did not even make a pretence at assuming +the imperturbable air of the sporting man. He was childishly agitated; +he looked as if he might cry if his bad luck continued. Elliott called +him a fool, and yet he was sorry for him. + +“Joss-pidgin man,” he heard a coolie whisper to another, indicating +the inexpert player with contempt. + +Number four side won, and the old man lost again upon the next deal. +His handful of gold was diminishing, but he staked six sovereigns upon +the second side of the square. “Oh, Lord! Oh, Lord, help me!” Elliott +caught the murmur from his moving lips. Elliott was disgusted, sick +and sorry at the pitiful sight, and yet it was none of his business. +The man turned once and looked him full in the face with absent eyes +that saw nothing, faded blue eyes that were full of weak tears. + +“Number one side!” called the dealer, and the six sovereigns were +raked in by the bank. The old man now had six coins left, and he +staked three of them without hesitation on the second side as before. +Squeezed against his side, Elliott could feel his thin old arms +trembling with painful excitement. + +“Number one side!” + +A kind of explosive sob burst from the player’s lips. He followed his +money with hungry eyes as it was gathered up, and then his glance +wandered about the circle of white and brown faces with a pitiful +appeal. His eye met Elliott’s; it was full of a hurt, bewildered +disappointment. The old man put out his hand to stake his last pieces. + +Elliott grasped his arm, on a sudden impulse. + +“Don’t play any more,” he said, in a low tone. “You’ve got no luck +to-night.” + +The player looked blankly at him, and tried to pull away his arm. + +“Stop it, I say,” reiterated Elliott. “You’d better come away with me. +You don’t know anything about this game.” + +“Who are you? I don’t know you. You’re trying to rob me, but I’ll get +my money back in spite of you.” + +“You old fool, I’m the best friend you’ve got in this house. You come +right along with me,” said Elliott, energetically, trying to drag the +gambler away from the table. + +He resisted with a sort of limp determination, but Elliott hauled him +through the circle of players that immediately closed up behind them. +No one troubled to look around; the game went on, and the dealer +announced, “Number four side!” + +“Now put your money in your pocket. We’ll go out,” Elliott ordered, +wondering at himself for taking so much trouble. For aught he knew, +the man might have been able to afford a loss of thousands. The +unlucky player fumbled tremulously with his sovereigns, and Elliott +was finally obliged to tuck them away for him. + +The guard at the gate let them out, and Elliott resolved to take +precautions against his protégé’s returning to the game. + +“You see this Sahib?” he said to the coolie. “Him have lost allee +cash. You no pay him go inside no more, savvy? No more cash, him makee +plenty bobbery. You savvy?” + +“Savvy plenty, master,” replied the coolie, with a knowing grin. + +“You’ll thank me for this to-morrow, if you don’t now,” said Elliott. +“Where do you intend to go?” + +The old man made no immediate answer, but he leaned limply on +Elliott’s arm, apparently in a state of nervous collapse. Unexpectedly +he turned away, hid his face in his hands against the white wall of +the house, and began to sob. + +“Oh, here! This won’t do. Confound it, man, brace up! Don’t break down +before a Chinaman,” cried Elliott, irritated and sorry. + +“I have fallen again!” moaned the gambler, hysterically. “I am +vile—yes, steeped in sin. Forty-seven pounds gone in an hour! And my +one hope was to live a life that would tell for the Cross in this +pagan land. I am weak, weak as water, and I have taken my child’s +bread and cast it unto the dogs. They robbed me. My God, why hast thou +forsaken me? I hoped to win ten times my money—I needed it so!” + +Elliott seized him by the arm and dragged him down the street in the +ivory moonlight. The old man’s face was ivory-white, and great tears +trickled from the faded blue eyes. + +“Don’t touch me,—I am not fit for you to touch me! I never gambled +before. If I only had it back again—forty-seven pounds—two months’ +savings. I will get it back. Let me go. I will win this time!” + +“You’ll get a knife in your back if you go there again. I’ve left word +to keep you out. For heaven’s sake, keep cool!” implored Elliott, in +great distress. He had never seen an old man break down before. It +wrung his heart, and he made a clumsy attempt at consolation. + +“Cheer up, now. You’re not broke, are you? I can lend you a pound or +so, if you need it. You’ll feel better in the morning.” + +They reached a little park at the angle of two streets, and the +gamester threw himself upon a bench. He had ceased to weep, but he +looked at Elliott with a tragic face. + +“You know little,” he said, sombrely. “You are young and strong, but +Satan stands at your back as surely as he does at mine. Pray, +therefore, lest you also fall into temptation.” + +Elliott could think of nothing to say in reply to this. + +“As for me, it is too late. And yet,” throwing his hands up +despairingly, “thou knowest, O Lord, if I have not served +thee—laboured for thee in pagan lands with all my strength. Wasted, +wasted! What was I to strive against the Adversary? I thought that I +had begun a new life where all my errors would be forgotten, and now +it is crushed—gone—and my child will starve among strangers.” + +“Tell me all about it. It’ll make you feel better, and maybe I can +help you,” Elliott adjured him, afraid that he would grow hysterical +again. “First of all, what’s your name? You said you were a +bookkeeper, or something, didn’t you?” + +The victim of chance seemed to cast about in his memory. “My name is +Eaton,” he announced at last, and stopped. + +“Well, and what about your new life and your child? You haven’t +gambled them away, have you? Is your family in Hongkong?” + +Eaton transferred his gaze blankly to Elliott’s face, and allowed it +to remain there for some seconds. + +“You seem to be a good man,” he said, finally. + +“Not particularly, but I’d like to help you if I can,” replied the +adventurer. + +“My little girl is coming to Hongkong. I sent for her—from the States. +She will arrive to-morrow, and I have no money.” + +“You sent for her? You sent for an American child to come to Hongkong +in the rainy season? You ought to be shot!” Elliott ejaculated. + +“She was all I had, and I am an old man. I was going to begin a new +life, with her help, and now I have lost the money I had saved for her +coming.” + +“What in the world made you go up against that cursed game, then?” +cried Elliott, wrathfully. + +“I wanted money—more money. I had a chance to make a fortune. I dare +say you have never known what it is to feel ready to turn to anything +to make a little money—anything, even to evil. And yet this was for a +good purpose. But now I have nothing. Tell me what to do.” + +“I can lend you twenty pounds,” said Elliott, after cogitating for a +little. “That ought to tide you over your present difficulty, and +you’ve still got your job, I suppose. Yes, I’ll put twenty pounds in +your daughter’s hands when she arrives, on the condition that she +doesn’t give you a cent of it.” + +“You will lend me twenty pounds—you—a stranger?” cried Eaton, with a +stare. “You—I can’t thank you, but I will pray—no, I can’t even pray!” +He put his head on the back of the bench and sobbed. “You must forgive +me,” he said, raising his head again. “I have never found so much +kindness in the world. You are right; do not trust me with a cent. I +am not fit to be trusted.” + +“Oh, yes, you are. I shouldn’t have said that,” encouraged Elliott, +feeling horribly embarrassed. “And now, when is your daughter coming?” + +“On the Southern Mail steamer. It touched at Yokohama eight days ago, +and it’s due to arrive here to-morrow afternoon.” + +“Very good. We’ll go back to Victoria in the morning, and we’ll both +meet the steamer. But what possessed you to send for her at this time +of year? Hongkong is bad enough for strong men.” + +“My girl is all I have in the world, and I haven’t seen her for so +long,” replied Eaton, visibly brightening. “Maybe it was a father’s +selfishness, but I reckon she needs my care.” + +“Your care!” said Elliott, brutally. “Where are you going to sleep +to-night? Come with me to my hotel.” + +“I had planned such a happy home,” Eaton went on, as they walked +through the moonlit streets. “I have had a hard life, but I had hoped +to settle here in comfort with my little girl. We can do it, can’t +we?” + +“I suppose so,” replied Elliott. “Though it seems to me that Hongkong +is a mighty poor place for a happy home.” + +“It isn’t the place; it’s the love and peace,” the gambler prattled +on, cheerfully. He appeared quite happy and restored in having thrown +his cares upon Elliott’s shoulders. “I have fallen into sin more than +once already, but the Lord knows how sorely I have repented, and His +grace is abounding. Don’t you think they must have cheated me in that +place?” + +“Oh, no. You were just out of luck. You should never play when you are +out of luck,” said Elliott, sagely. + +“It seems to me that I ought to have won. I suppose you have gambled +sometimes. Did you ever win?” + +“Occasionally.” + +“Well, luck or not, I shall never stake money again. I have been +treated with more mercy than I deserve. I just begin to realize the +horrible pit that I barely escaped. What would have become of me? I +hardly dare to think of it. You have saved me, perhaps soul as well as +body.” + +“Oh, stop it!” Elliott exclaimed. + +“I don’t think of myself so much as of my little girl. I shall tell +her the whole story, and she will know how to thank you better than I +can.” + +“You’ll do nothing of the sort!” cried Elliott, angrily. “She’ll have +troubles enough in this pestilential place without that.” + +During the night Elliott more than once repented of his bargain, which +seemed likely to involve his having the Eaton family slung round his +neck to the end of his stay in the East. The old man was +well-intentioned enough; he bristled with high resolutions; but he was +clearly as unfit for responsibility as a child. Elliott deeply pitied +the unfortunate daughter, but he could not feel himself bound to +assume the position of guardian to the pair. He determined to meet the +steamer as he had promised, hand over the promised twenty pounds, and +henceforward avoid the neighbourhood of both father and daughter. + +The returning boat left Macao at ten o’clock the next morning, and +they reëntered the steam and rain of Hongkong harbour. At three +o’clock the big Southern Mail steamer loomed slowly in sight through +the haze, surrounded by a fleet of small junks and shore boats. Eaton +and Elliott boarded her before any one had landed. Her decks were +crowded with passengers, hurrying aimlessly about, staring over the +rail or standing guard upon piles of luggage. + +Elliott was making his way through the throng when some one touched +his arm. + +“Mr. Elliott! Is it possible you are here? What are you doing? I +thought you were in India. I was so frightened—oh!” + +“Margaret—Miss Laurie! Don’t faint!” gasped Elliott, shocked into +utter bewilderment, and scarcely believing his eyes or ears. + +“I’m not going to faint. I never faint,” said Margaret, weakly. “But I +was so startled and frightened. Did you know my father was here?” + +“Maggie!” cried Eaton, pushing past him, and in a moment the old man, +whose face beamed like the sun, had his daughter in his arms. + + + + + CHAPTER XI. ILLUMINATION + + +The life of the Reverend Titus E. Laurie contained two active +principles. The first of these was a tireless enthusiasm for the +propagation of the principles of Methodist Christianity, and this had +moved him ever since he could remember. The second was solicitude for +his daughter Margaret, which, necessarily, had been operative for only +the last twenty years. During these twenty years he had been absent +from America almost all the time; the total number of weeks he had +spent with Margaret would scarcely have aggregated a year; so that his +affection was obliged to take the form of voluminous letters from +out-of-the-way places in Asia and Polynesia, and of remittances of +more money than he could afford. + +But his religious work took always first place in his mind. There +never was, one might suppose, a man more clearly “called to the work” +than Titus E. Laurie. He cared little for theology. He had never had +any doubts of anything; if he had had them, they would not have +troubled him. His temper was purely practical, and the ideal which +filled his soul was the redemption of the world from its state of sin +and death by the forces of the gospel as systematized by John Wesley. +He was tolerant of other Protestant churches, but not of Roman +Catholicism. He had preached when he was fifteen; at eighteen he was a +“local preacher,” and at twenty he was in full charge of a church of +his own in South Rock, New York. + +He was shifted about on that “circuit” according to the will of the +Conference till the opening of the war, when he went to the front as +an army nurse. In three months, however, he came back, vaguely in +disgrace. It appeared that he had been unable to resist the entreaties +of his patients, and had supplied them surreptitiously with tabooed +chewing tobacco and liquor. But this was an error of kindness and +inexperience; it was easily condoned by his supporters, and he resumed +his more regular pastoral work. In 1866 he was much in demand as a +revivalist. + +Mr. Laurie had charge of the funds of his church as well as of its +souls. It was hard for a non-producer to live in the period of high +prices succeeding the war. Just what he did with the money in his +custody was never definitely ascertained; probably he could not have +said himself; but he was unable to restore it when the time came. He +did not face his parishioners; he left in the night for Mexico, +leaving behind a letter of agonized remorse and promises of amendment. + +In Mexico he worked for two years in the mines and on a coffee +plantation, and sent home the whole amount of his embezzlement in +monthly instalments. At the same time he undertook to conduct +Methodist prayer-meetings among the mine labourers, who were chiefly +Indians and half-castes. This brought him into collision with his +employer, the local priest, and his prospective converts. He was +threatened, stoned, ducked, and menaced with murder, but he persisted +and actually succeeded in establishing a tiny Methodist community, +which survived for six months after he left it. + +Laurie was forgiven by his church, and returned to the North, but not +to resume pastoral work. He became a bookkeeper in New York; but the +evangelist’s instinct was too strong for him, and he took to mission +work on the lower East Side. After a year of this, he succeeded in +getting himself sent to the Sandwich Islands as a missionary, from +which post he returned in five years, in disgrace once more. There +were rumours of a shady transaction in smuggled opium, in which he had +been involved, though not to his own pecuniary benefit. + +He remained in America this time for three or four years, and married +a lady much older than himself. These domestic arrangements were +broken up, however, by his leaving once more for the South Seas, +having been able to secure another appointment for the mission field. +He never saw his wife again. She died a year later in giving birth to +a daughter, who was taken in charge by an aunt living in the West. + +Since that time his labours had extended over much of Polynesia, with +digressions into Africa and China. He had sailed the first missionary +schooner, the _Olive Branch_, among the Islands, and he had preached +on the beach to brown warriors armed to the teeth, who had never +before seen a white man. But the Reverend Titus E. Laurie escaped with +his life. He thrived on danger, from the Fiji spears to the typhoons +that came near to swamping his wretchedly found vessel on every +voyage. + +And yet he did not escape scathless. It was rumoured that the +fascinations of certain of his female converts in Tahiti had proved +too much for him; a scandal was averted by his leaving the station. He +was accused of pearling in forbidden waters; and in the end he had to +resign his command of the _Olive Branch_, as it was conclusively +proved that the missionary schooner had run opium in her hold with the +connivance of her chief. The Rev. Titus E. Laurie, in fact, was +granite against hostility when in the regular line of his work. He was +made of the stuff of martyrs, but responsibilities found him weak, and +he could no more make head against a sudden strong temptation than he +could deliberately plan a crime. + +Elliott gleaned these details of Mr. Laurie’s career by scraps in the +course of the next three weeks, but just how the missionary had come +to change his name and settle in Victoria was a mystery to him. At any +rate, Laurie, or Eaton, as he persisted in calling himself, had +secured a position as accountant in the godown of one of the largest +English importing firms, and seemed to propose to spend the remainder +of his life in that station. He had now been there for over two +months, and Elliott presently discovered that he was already in the +habit of visiting the mission settlement at Kowloon and taking part in +the meetings held there. The missionaries on duty found him a valuable +assistant, and, as Elliott discovered, had made proposals to him to +join them; but these Eaton had refused. + +Accustomed to the tropics, the heat did not affect him much, but +Elliott at once insisted that a house must be rented upon the Peak for +Miss Margaret. Coming directly from the sparkling air of the American +plains, the girl could never have lived in the hot steam of the lower +town. Laurie demurred a little on the score of expense,—not that he +grudged the money, but because he did not have it. Elliott said +nothing, but began to look about, and was lucky enough to obtain the +lease of a cottage upon the mountain-top at a nominal figure, +considering the locality. It had been taken by a retired naval officer +who was unexpectedly obliged to return to England and was glad to +dispose of the lease, so that Elliott bound himself to pay only eighty +dollars a month for the remainder of the summer. + +He had the lease transferred to Laurie’s new name. “If you say a word +to your daughter about this,” he warned him when he handed over the +document, “I’ll tell her about your sporting life in Macao.” + +The missionary smiled uneasily, and then looked grave. “I can never +begin to thank you, much less repay you. I am not much good +now,—nothing but a weak old man, but my prayers—” + +“Oh, cut it out!” said Elliott, impatiently. + +Laurie flushed. + +“I beg your pardon; I didn’t mean that, of course. Only, you know, +your daughter and I are old friends, and you mustn’t talk of gratitude +for any little thing I do.” + +“But there is one thing I wish,” replied the old man, after an +embarrassed moment. “I insist that you share the cottage with us.” + +Elliott hesitated, wondering whether it would be judicious, and +yielded. + +“Certainly I will,” he said, “and glad to have the chance.” + +Margaret was delighted at the appearance of the cottage, a tiny +bungalow, deep-verandahed, standing amid a grove of China pines that +rustled perpetually with a cooling murmur. The highway leading to it +was more like a conservatory than a street. + +“You dear old papa!” she exclaimed, sitting down rapturously upon the +steps, after having rushed through the building from front to rear, +startling the dignified and spotless Chinese cook which they had +inherited from the former tenants. + +“How good you are to get all this for me! It must have cost such a +lot, too. Mr. Elliott says that houses up here cost two hundred +dollars a month. You didn’t pay all that, did you? Now we must be very +economical, and we’ll all work. I’m going to discharge that Chinaman.” + +“You can’t work. You’d scandalize the Peak,” said Elliott. + +“I don’t care anything for the Peak. I’m going to fire that Chinee +first of all. I’m afraid of him, he looks so mysteriously solemn, as +if he knew all sorts of Oriental poisons, and I never can learn +pidgin-English. No, I’m going to cook, and I’ll make you doughnuts and +fried chicken and mashed potatoes and real American coffee and all the +good old United States things that you haven’t tasted for so long.” + +“But you can’t do anything like that. No white woman works in this +country,” Elliott expostulated. + +“But I shall,” she retorted, firmly. + +And she did,—or, rather, she tried hard to do it. But it turned out to +be difficult, and often impossible, to procure the ingredients for the +preparation of the promised American dishes, and she was by increasing +degrees forced back upon the fare of the country, which she did not +quite know how to deal with. It did not matter,—not even when it came +to living chiefly upon canned goods, which usually were American +enough to satisfy the most ardent patriot. The three had come to +regard the affair in the light of a prolonged picnic, and they agreed +that it was too hot to eat doughnuts and fried chicken, anyway. + +Laurie still went down the mountain to the sweltering lower city every +morning and did not return till sunset. Elliott and Margaret usually +spent the day together, for he had temporarily abandoned the search +for the mate. An unconquerable horror of the town had filled him, and +he silenced an uneasy conscience by telling himself that he would +learn nothing new if he did go there. + +Sometimes he helped Margaret to wash the breakfast things, and then he +sat lazily in a long chair on the wide veranda, smoking an excellent +Manila cheroot and reading the _China Daily Mail_. He could hear +Margaret softly moving about inside the house; she dropped casual +remarks to him through the open window, and usually she ended by +coming out and sitting with him, reading or sewing with an industry +that even the climate could not tame. Below them the steamy +rain-clouds drifted and wavered over the city; Hongkong Roads ran like +a zigzag strip of gray steel out to the ocean, but it was cool, if +damp, upon the Peak, and the two had reached such a degree of intimacy +that sometimes for an hour they did not say a word. + +To Elliott this period bore an inexpressible charm. For many years his +associates had been almost altogether men, the rough and strong men of +action of the West; and the graceful domesticity that a womanly woman +instinctively gathers about her was new to him, or so old that it was +almost forgotten. They were alone together, for the ex-missionary +scarcely counted, and they knew no one else on the Island. It was +almost as if the Island had been a desert one, and they wrecked upon +it. They were isolated in the midst of this great, torrid, bustling +half-Chinese colony, and in that most improbable spot he found a +little corner of perfume with such quiet and peace as he had scarcely +imagined. He did not quite understand its charm, and he was not much +given to analyzing his sensations. It was enough for him that he was +happy as he had never been before in his life, and he thanked the +treasure trail for leading him to this, and tried to forget that the +trail was not yet ended. + +But he was astonished to find that Margaret made no reference to her +father’s change of name, and seemed to accept it with as little +surprise as if she supposed an alias to be a regular Anglo-Chinese +custom. Elliott was afraid to speak of the matter, but his amazement +grew till he could no longer restrain his curiosity, and he asked her +one morning, pointblank. + +“Miss Margaret, do you know why your father has changed his name?” + +“Yes, I know,” she replied, looking slightly troubled. “I can’t tell +you the reason, though. But it was for nothing disgraceful,—though I +don’t need to tell you that. He had to do it; I can’t say any more.” + +“I beg your pardon—I merely wondered—of course I knew there was some +good reason. It was none of my business, anyway,” Elliott blundered, +privately wondering what fiction Laurie had dished up for his +daughter’s consumption. + +“There is the best of reasons. My father is one of the noblest men in +the world. You don’t know him yet, but he knows you. He is very keen, +and he has been studying you; he told me so.” + +“Oh!” said Elliott. + +“Yes. And he has the very highest opinion of you, I may tell you, if +your modesty will stand it. He says you have helped him a great deal. +Have you?” + +“Not so far as I know.” + +“Well, he thinks you have, which comes to the same thing. Some day he +may be able to do something for you—something really great.” + +“He has done it already in bringing you out here,” said Elliott, and +was sorry directly he had said it. + +“I don’t like speeches like that,” said Miss Margaret. “Now, you’ve +never told me why you are here yourself.” + +“Didn’t I tell you that I came on business?” + +“Yes, but what sort of business? Another hunt for easy fortunes, I +suppose, such as you promised to give up. How much do you stand to win +this time?” + +“What would you say if I said millions?” + +“I’d say that you didn’t appear to be looking for them very hard.” + +Elliott squirmed in the long chair and moaned plaintively. + +“I haven’t seen you looking for them at all, in fact. Since we moved +to the Peak, you’ve done nothing but sit in that long chair.” + +“Yes, hang it, you’re right,” Elliott exclaimed, sitting up. “It’s +true. I’ve been wasting my time for two weeks, spending my partners’ +money and not doing the work I’m paid to do.” + +“You must do it, then. Tell me, what is it?” + +“No, I can’t tell it, not even to you. It’s not my own secret. I’ve +got three partners in it, and my particular task is to hunt down a man +whom I never set eyes on. I’ve chased him a matter of ten thousand +miles, and he’s supposed to be somewhere in this city,” looking down +at the wet smoke that hung over the bustling port. + +Somewhere under that haze was the clue to the drowned million, and he +felt the shame of his idleness. He had been philandering away his +time, and at this juncture when every day was priceless. He turned +back to the girl. + +“Thank you for waking me up. Your advice always comes at the +psychological moment,” he said. “My holiday’s over. To-morrow I start +work again.” + +He went down to the city that afternoon, in fact, but the old +perplexity returned upon him when he tried to think how and where he +was to begin his search. He went the rounds of the steamer offices and +scrutinized the outgoing passenger-lists for the past three weeks. +There was no name that he recognized. He tried the consulates again +without any result. He could think of no new move, and he was +irritated at his own lack of resource. + +Yet the Hongkong Club was the centre of all the foreign life of the +colony; it was visited daily by almost every white man on the island, +and if Burke, or Baker, were in the city, he would be certain to +gravitate there sooner or later. So Elliott took to spending days in +that institution, eagerly scrutinizing every big-boned elderly man of +seafaring appearance who entered. But, as he often reflected, he might +rub elbows with his man daily and not know it; and he regretted more +than ever that he had not obtained a full description of the mate. + +After a week of this sedentary sort of man-hunting, he became imbued +with a deep sense of the futility of the thing. It was only by the +merest chance that he could hope to learn anything. It was chance that +had assisted the affair up to the present; the whole scheme was one +gigantic gamble, discovered, financed, and operated by sheer good +luck, and the run seemed exhausted. Anyhow, he thought fatalistically, +good fortune was as likely to strike him on the Peak as in the city, +and he took to spending his days on the veranda once more. He cabled +again to Henninger: + +“Track totally lost. What shall do?” + +Still, he did not totally abandon the search, but rather he made it a +pretext for little exploring expeditions round the city and suburbs +with Margaret, accompanied by her father when he could get away from +business. They prowled about Kowloon, and they all visited Macao +together, where Laurie exhibited the blandest oblivion of his recent +lapse, and lectured his companions most edifyingly upon the curse of +gambling, the degeneracy of the Portuguese race, and the corruption of +the Church of Rome. + +They visited the shipyards opposite Hongkong, saw the naval +headquarters and the missionary station, and, a week later, all three +of them crossed to Formosa on Saturday and returned on Sunday, merely +for the refreshing effect of the open sea breezes. + +The heavy Chinese smell came off the coast as they returned into +Hongkong Roads late on Sunday night. Elliott sickened at the thought +of resuming the search that had become hateful to him, in a city that, +but for one thing, had become intolerable. + +Margaret was leaning over the bows with him, watching the prow rise +and fall in splashes of orange and gold phosphorescence. The +missionary was dozing in a chair somewhere astern. A score of coolies +were gambling and talking loudly between decks. + +“This is all so wonderful to me!” said Margaret, suddenly. “Only a +month or two ago I was in Nebraska, but it seems years. I had never +seen anything; I had no idea what a great and wonderful place the +world was. I think of it all, and I sometimes wonder if I am the same +girl. But do you know what it makes me think most? + +“It makes me feel,” she went on, as Elliott did not reply, “how great +and noble my father must be to have given his life to help this great, +swarming heathen world. I never knew there were so many heathens; I +thought they were mostly Methodists and Episcopalians. Don’t you think +he really is the best man in the world?” + +“I never saw a man so full of high ideals,” Elliott answered. + +He had answered at random, scarcely listening to what she said. But +the sound of her voice through the darkness had brought illumination +to him, and he realized why he had shrunk from returning to the +gold-hunt. He had found a higher ideal himself, and as he thought of +his years and years of ineffectual, topsyturvy scrambling after a +fortune which he would not have known how to keep if he had found, +they seemed to him inexpressibly futile and childish. He had missed +what was most worth while in life—but it was not too late. He hoped, +and doubted, and his heart beat suddenly with an almost painful +thrilling. + +Her white muslin sleeve almost touched his shoulder, but her face was +turned from him, looking wide-eyed toward the dark China coast. He +knew that she was meditating upon the virtues of her evangelistic +father. He did not speak, but she turned her head quickly and looked +at him, with a puzzled, almost frightened glance. + +“What’s the matter?” he said, almost in a whisper. + +“I don’t know,” Margaret murmured, and her eyes dropped. For a moment +she stood silent; she seemed to palpitate; then she roused herself +with a little shrug. + +“I am nervous to-night. For a moment I had a shudder—I felt as if +something had happened, or was happening—I don’t know what. Come, +let’s go back and find father. We’re nearly in.” She thrust her arm +under his with a return to her usual frank confidence. + +“I’m so glad you’re here, too,” she said, impulsively. + +This was not what Elliott wanted, not what he had seen revealed +suddenly between the blaze of the stars and the flame of the sea. But +he would not tell her so—not yet. Not for anything would he shatter +their open comradeship. + + + + + CHAPTER XII. OPEN WAR + + +The day after he returned from Formosa, Elliott received a reply to +his cablegram, which said, simply: + + “Find it. Buck up! + + “Henninger.” + +It was easy to give the order, Elliott thought. But during the next +few days the heat was terrible, even for Hongkong. On the Peak, men +sweltered; in the lower city, they died. It rained, without cease, a +rain that seemed to steam up from the hot earth as fast as it fell, +and, to add terror to discomfort, half a dozen cases of cholera were +discovered in the Chinese city, and an epidemic was feared. Most of +the offices employing white clerks closed daily at noon, and there was +a great exodus of the foreign population to Yokohama. + +On Sunday it cooled slightly, however, and the rain ceased. To gain +what advantage they could of the respite, Margaret and Elliott walked +out to the edge of the mountain-top, a quarter of a mile away, and +spent the forenoon there. The missionary dozed at home; he slept a +great deal during the hot weather. + +They were returning for lunch, which Margaret persistently refused to +call “tiffin,” and had almost reached the bungalow, when a man stepped +down from the veranda and came toward them along the deeply shaded +street. At the first glance Elliott thought he recognized the +graceful, alert figure, and he was right. It was Sevier, who had just +left the house. + +The Alabaman stopped short when he met them, and lifted his hat, +without, however, betraying any particular surprise. + +“Good mo’nin’, Elliott. So you’re in Hongkong?” + +“As you see,” replied Elliott, a trifle stiffly. “Were you looking for +me?” + +“Not particularly. I was looking for another man.” + +“How long have you been here?” + +“Oh, about a couple of weeks.” + +There was a pause, which Elliott felt to be a nervous one. + +“How are the bereaved relatives of your wreck’s crew?” Sevier went on. + +“I don’t know. Have you found the man you were looking for?” + +“Not exactly. Have you?” + +“No.” + +There was another pause. Margaret was looking puzzled and impatient. + +“I beg your pardon, I’m delaying you,” said Sevier, with a slight bow +toward the girl. “I wish you’d dine with me at the Club to-night at +seven o’clock. Can you? I have an idea that I can tell you something +that you’d be glad to know.” + +Elliott reflected for a moment, with some suspicion. “Thank you, I +shall be delighted,” he accepted, formally, at last. + +“At seven o’clock,” repeated Sevier, bowing once more, and passing on. + +“Who was that man? I never saw him before. What were you talking +about?” demanded Margaret, when they were out of earshot. + +“To tell you the truth, I don’t exactly know,” Elliott replied, in a +sort of abstracted excitement. + +Margaret went to her own room to take off her hat, and Elliott turned +into the big, darkened sitting-room, where he was confronted with the +spectacle of the missionary seated beside the table with his head +buried in his arms. + +“What did that man want here?” Elliott demanded, hastily. “Why, what’s +the matter with you?” + +Laurie raised a face that was covered with perspiration, and haggard +with some emotion. His mouth trembled, and he looked half-dazed. + +“That man!” he moaned, vaguely. “Oh, that man!” + +“Yes. What did he want?” + +“What did he want?” repeated Laurie, clearly incapable of coherent +thought. “Oh, heavens! what did he not want?” + +Elliott mixed an iced glass of water and lime juice, for the +missionary would never touch spirits. + +“Here, drink this, and try to brace up,” he said. + +Laurie drank it like a docile child, and looked up with frightened +eyes. + +“I have done wrong,” he said, pathetically. “I have sinned often. I +have fallen times past counting.” + +“I know it,” said Elliott. “What have you been doing now?” + +“The question is, what am I going to do?” replied the old man, with a +flash of animation. “It has all been for her—whatever errors I have +made. No one can say that I have ever profited by a dollar that was +not honestly my own.” + +“Well—all right. But for goodness’ sake try to tell me what Sevier was +asking about.” + +Laurie hesitated for a long time. + +“It was about the ship—the _Clara McClay_” he produced, at last. + +Elliott stared, speechless for a moment, shocked into utter +bewilderment. + +“The _Clara McClay_?” he babbled. “The—” he was going to say the +“gold-ship.” + +“What do you know about her? Where did you hear of her?” + +“I was on her. I was wrecked with her.” + +“The devil you were!” + +“Yes, wrecked, and saved only by the Lord’s wonderful mercy. I floated +about for days in an open boat.” + +“Look here,” said Elliott. “I rather fancy that you’re running more +risk now than you were in that open boat. You don’t know what deep +waters you’re sailing. Sevier’s a dangerous man. If you want me to +help you, you’ll have to tell me the whole story.” + +The missionary acquiesced with the alacrity which he always showed in +casting his mundane responsibilities upon stronger shoulders. + +“I am ashamed to tell you the story,” he said. “And yet it was not my +fault. At least, I had no intention of doing any wrong whatever. I was +in the work at Durban under the British Mission Board. I had been +there for two years, and I may say that my efforts had been abundantly +blessed,” he added, with humble pride. + +“But I was tempted, and I was weak. I had a large sum of money in my +hands—nearly five hundred dollars—which the Board had supplied for the +building of a new chapel. I did not covet it for myself, but my salary +was long overdue, and it was past my time to send a remittance to my +daughter. The fund would not be needed for months, and I would have +paid back every cent of it.” + +“So you took it,” Elliott interrupted. + +“I sent the remittance. About two weeks later an officer of the +Mission Society came through South Africa, and I was called upon for +an account of the fund. I was disgraced. I could have escaped, but I +would not do that. I started to England in charge of the officer to be +tried for embezzlement. There was an American steamer sailing from +Durban, and we embarked on her. The name of the steamer was the _Clara +McClay_. + +“I stayed in my cabin all the time, so I do not know anything of the +voyage. I believe we called at Delagoa Bay for cargo and passengers. +We had been out over a week when the ship struck. It was very dark, +with a high sea running, and she seemed to be breaking up. They +launched several boats, but all were sunk before they left the ship’s +side. + +“The Society’s officer went in one of them and tried to induce me to +go with him, but I have been many years at sea, and I knew the risk of +trying to launch boats in that position. He was drowned, with most of +the ship’s company. At daylight there were only five of us left,—the +mate, three Boers who had been passengers, and myself. The sea was +quieter then, and we managed to get the last of the boats overboard +and to get clear. + +“The mate had been severely injured about the head by falling from the +bridge when she struck, and I felt sure that he could not live unless +we were picked up soon. There was no use in landing on the desert reef +where we had struck, so we sailed north with a fair wind, for there +was fortunately a sail in the boat. We hoped to get into the track of +India-bound vessels,—or at least I hoped for it, for the Boers knew +nothing of navigation, and the mate was growing to be either delirious +or unconscious most of the time. + +“It was a week before we were picked up. I won’t tell you of its +horrors. The water ran out, under the sun of the equator. The Boers +drank sea-water, in spite of everything I could say, and all three +went mad and threw themselves overboard. I just managed to keep alive +and to keep the mate alive by dipping myself frequently in the sea and +drenching his clothes with the bailer. But he died about the fourth +day. He was conscious for a few hours before he died, and I did what I +could to prepare his mind. + +“I had to throw his body overboard. I could not have kept it in the +boat—in that heat. But I kept his oilskin clothes and his uniform cap, +thinking they might be needful. He had nearly a hundred pounds in +sovereigns in a belt, also, which he told me to take, as he had no +relatives, and I took them. + +“It rained the night after he died, and that saved me. Two days later +I was picked up by an Italian steamer, called the _Andrea Sforzia_.” + +Elliott emitted an ejaculation. + +“Yes, it was providential,” went on the missionary, patiently. “And +then I saw an opportunity of burying my past. I trust it was not +dishonourable. The Italian officers of the steamer could speak very +little English, and as I was wearing the mate’s uniform cap they took +me to be an officer of the wrecked ship. I would not have told them a +falsehood, but I did not undeceive them. They took me to Bombay, and +they made me go to the American consul, but I escaped as soon as I +could, and concealed myself in the city for a couple of weeks. Then I +came on to Hongkong, where I hoped—” + +“Do you know just where the _Clara McClay_ was wrecked?” Elliott +demanded, trying to keep cool in the face of this revelation. + +“That is what that man asked me. It must have been off the northwest +coast of Madagascar.” + +“But don’t you know the exact spot?” + +“How could I? I was never out of my cabin till the night she struck.” + +Elliott burst into a bitter and uncontrollable roar of laughter. This, +then, was the end of the trail he had followed from the centre of the +United States at such expense and with such hopes. It ended in a man +with whom he had unsuspectingly lived for a month, an aged +ex-missionary of infirm moral habits. + +“That man who was here asked me the same thing,” repeated Laurie, +plaintively. “Why did he want to know where she struck—or why do you +want to know? My God! I had almost forgotten it!” he cried, +shuddering. “What shall I do? How can I save myself?” + +“What on earth do you mean?” cried Elliott. + +“He threatened me with disgrace—and arrest, unless I would tell him +where the ship went down. He said he would expose me to the British +Mission Board—and he would put all the proofs of—of more than that, of +other things, in the hands of my daughter. I deserve to be punished. I +can face even disgrace for myself—but not for her—not for my little +girl.” + +“No, she mustn’t hear of anything of the sort,” said Elliott. He +considered the situation for several minutes, walking to and fro. “Why +did you tell everybody that the ship went down in deep water?” he +asked. + +The missionary started. “How did you know that I did? It was a sudden +temptation. The consul in Bombay asked me if she foundered at sea, and +I said she did. It made no difference to any one, and it seemed safer. +You must remember the state I was in, after a week in an open boat +without water.” + +“Well, don’t worry,” said Elliott. “I dare say you didn’t mean any +harm, but that little remark of yours has cost a good deal of trouble +and a good many thousand dollars. But I’ll see that Sevier doesn’t +trouble you. I know him pretty well. I’m going to dine with him +to-night, in fact, and I’ll explain things to him.” + +Laurie brightened wonderfully at this assurance. During the past month +he had come to have an almost childlike trust in Elliott’s powers of +saving him from troubles, and at lunch he had almost recovered his +customary serene benignity. But Elliott was far from that placid state +of mind. The whole campaign would have to be altered. There was now no +hope of learning the location of the wreck from any of her survivors. +So far as he could see, there was only the chance of searching all +that portion of the channel till her bones were discovered, and it was +ten to one that the Arab coasters would have been before them. But at +any rate he could now meet Sevier without fear; he had no longer any +plan to conceal. + +He spent that afternoon in anxious thought, and finally wrote a long +letter to Henninger, detailing his adventures on the man-hunt that had +ended in a mare’s nest. As the letter might take over a month to reach +Zanzibar, he stopped at the cable office on his way to the Club, and +sent the following message: + +“Mate dead, taking secret with him. Shall I join you? Letter follows.” + +Sevier was waiting for him when he arrived at the Club’s massive +façade, and a table was already reserved in the farthest corner of the +dining-room. The air was heavy under the swinging punkahs, for it had +come on to rain again, and the drip and splash of the streets came +through the open windows. + +They discussed the soup in silence, and with the introduction of a +violently flavoured entrée they talked of the rain. + +“The weather’s no fit subject for conversation in this country,” +Sevier broke off all at once. “Look here, Elliott, you’re up against +it, aren’t you?” + +“I don’t know that I am, particularly,” answered the treasure-hunter, +coolly. “You’re in something of a blind alley yourself, I fancy.” + +“I don’t mind admitting that I am, for the moment. What do you know +about the _Clara McClay_?” + +“Nothing—except that she was wrecked.” + +“But you know what her cargo was?” + +“Yes, I do. Do you know where that cargo is now?” + +“No, I don’t. But she never sunk in deep water—I know that. She’s +ashore somewhere in the Mozambique Channel. Now I propose to you, +Elliott, that we join forces. You’re playing a lone hand, I reckon, +and it takes money to play a game like this. I have a partner with me, +and we’ve got $25,000 to spend. What do you say?” + +“I’d like to hear a little more,” said Elliott. + +“Well, I’ll play my cards face up. Look here. That gold was stolen +from the treasury at Pretoria by a gang of crooked Dutchmen. You may +know that. My partner, Carlton, was in Pretoria at the time, and he +got wind of it, and found out what ship it was going to be sent on. Do +you know what we did? We squared the ship’s mate, Burke, to pile the +old hooker up on the Afu Bata reef, off Mozambique. It cost us five +thousand cash to make the deal with him, and we had to promise him a +share of the plunder. Now do you see why we’re interested?” + +Elliott saw, and he saw furthermore that the affair was revealing +mazes of complexity that he had not suspected. + +“Yes,” he said, trying not to look surprised. “Then you must know +where she was wrecked, after all.” + +“No, because the mate threw us down—the thief! He took our money and +did us dirt. We hung around the Afu Bata reef in a dhow for three +weeks, off and on, and the _Clara McClay_ never showed up. At last we +put into Zanzibar, and found that she hadn’t been sighted anywhere +since she left Lorenzo Marques. A little later we heard that she had +been wrecked, and that the mate had been picked up, and that he had +said that she was sunk in deep water.” + +“But that wasn’t the mate at all,” Elliott remarked. + +“Yes, I know. I heard the story from that sanctimonious old hypocrite +on the Peak. But it was the mate that sunk her. It was Burke that ran +her ashore somewhere and figured to have all the plunder himself. It +wasn’t his fault that he got drowned or whatever happened to him. The +question now is—where is that wreck?” + +Elliott laughed. “Good Lord, that’s the question I’ve been trying to +solve for three months.” + +“There is one man that knows.” + +“Who is it?” + +“Your old sky-pilot” + +“You’re all wrong,” said Elliott. “Old Laurie, or Eaton, knows nothing +at all about the thing. And I should like to know how in the world you +came to take up his trail.” + +“The same as you did, I expect,” replied Sevier, winking. “We went +from Zanzibar up to Port Said, and waited there till we heard about +the mate being picked up and going to Bombay. I went there too, as you +know, having the honour to be your fellow passenger, but I never +suspected you of being interested in the wreck—not at first. + +“In Bombay I lost the trail, same as you did. But when I heard the +American consul describe his man I made sure it couldn’t be the real +mate. It was some fakir, and why should anybody fake the thing unless +he was up to some game. It made me keener than ever. Lord! I worked +like a slave in that accursed city. I searched every consulate, and +the hotels and the boarding-houses. I found that a man answering my +description had come to the Planters’ Hotel about the time the +counterfeit mate turned up. I found that he had gone—sailed for +Hongkong under a different name. I cabled Carlton, my partner, and we +came here. + +“It was you who helped us here. I spotted you on the street a week +ago, had you followed to the Peak, and there you were, living hand in +glove with my fakir. I went up there this morning, after learning that +you had gone out, and I put the question straight to the white-headed +old hypocrite. He went all to pieces, just as I expected, but he +wouldn’t tell me anything. However, we have a way to force him.” + +“Lost labour,” remarked Elliott, coolly. “He didn’t know even that the +_Clara McClay_ was loaded with gold.” + +“Don’t you believe it!” said Sevier, leaning impressively across the +table. “Elliott, that old parson is the slipperiest beggar between +Africa and Oregon. I know all about his doings in the past. As like as +not he murdered the mate himself—” + +Elliott gave an exclamation of derision. + +“Anyhow, I’m sure that he made up a plant with Burke to turn the trick +on us. He knows where that gold is now; you can bank on that! And if +you’ve been living with him for a month and don’t know too, you’re not +the clever man I take you to be.” + +“I think you’re just a little too clever yourself,” Elliott replied. +“I’ll play my cards face up, too. I know just as much as you do about +the location of that wreck, and that old missionary doesn’t know half +as much. You’ve sized up his character wrong. He’s merely a simple, +kind-hearted, unworldly old gentleman with no moral backbone. If he +knew where all that gold was, I don’t believe he’d go after it. He +might steal a hundred dollars if he saw it lying handy and happened to +need it, but he wouldn’t take any interest in a million that he +couldn’t see. As for his conspiring with Burke, much less killing him, +that’s sheer bosh. He doesn’t know where the _Clara McClay_ is, and I +don’t either.” + +“You’re too secretive for me,” said Sevier, looking downcast. “You +won’t mind if I say candidly that I think you’re bluffing. Don’t tell +me that you haven’t found out anything from that fellow Laurie, or +Eaton, as he calls himself. Something is preventing you from sailing +back to Africa and fishing up that million. I think we can supply what +is lacking to you. We need you; you need us. Then join us, and we’ll +work together.” + +“You are right,” Elliott agreed. “There is something that prevents me +from going there, and that is the fact that I don’t know where to go. +But I don’t mind admitting that I’m going to try to find out. I have +partners with me, too, and we have a little money to throw away.” + +“How many partners have you?” Sevier inquired. + +“Three.” + +“Well, bring them all in. We’ll share and share alike.” + +Elliott seriously considered this proposition for a couple of minutes. +But he knew that Henninger would accept no such arrangement. + +“I couldn’t make such a deal without consulting the other men,” he +said. “And I know that the chief of our gang would never stand for it. +He’s rather a whole hog or nothing man, and I’m a little that way +myself. No, I’m afraid we’ll have to work separately.” + +“Is that your final word?” + +“Absolutely.” + +“Well, I’m sorry. Excuse me a moment,” said Sevier, getting up +hastily. He went out of the dining-room, but returned almost +immediately. “I just then caught sight of a man I wanted to speak to,” +he explained. “Then I can’t induce you to go shares with us?” + +“I’m afraid not, thank you,” replied Elliott + +“It’s a fair race for a million, then, and let the best man win! But +it seems a fool business for us to cut one another’s throats. We’ve +made you the best proposals we can, but we feel that we have prior +rights on that cargo, and we’ll fight for it if necessary.” + +“We’ll try to meet you half-way,” said Elliott carelessly. “And isn’t +it absurd to talk of prior rights when the whole thing is little +better than a steal?” + +“A steal? Not a bit of it. The ship is sunk outside the three-mile +limit in neutral seas. It’s treasure-trove.” + +“I’ve been trying to look at it that way myself,” replied Elliott. +“But I fancy some government or other would claim it if they heard of +it It’s war, then, is it?” + +“That’ll come soon enough. Let’s have peace while we can,” Sevier +responded, poking at the roast beef, which lay a tepid and soggy mass +on his plate. “I must apologize to my guest. I’ve spoiled your dinner +for you. It’s stone cold—or as near it as anything ever gets in this +country. Let me order some more.” + +“No—don’t!” said Elliott, sickening at the thought of food in that +reeking atmosphere. “It’s too hot and wet to eat. This climate is +getting too much for me.” + +“Thinking of trying Africa? Look here, you come around to my place, +and I’ll mix you a cold drink, anyway. I found a plant the other day +that tastes like mint, and I’ll give you as close an imitation of a +Baltimore julep as can be had in China.” + +There were half a dozen palanquins waiting about the front of the Club +as usual, and Sevier gave the coolies an address which Elliott did not +catch. The bearers left Queen’s Road and turned up a street leading to +the mountain, which they ascended for several minutes, and finally +they stopped in the rain, which was now falling heavily. It was one of +the beautiful and shaded streets half-way up the slope, and they were +opposite a small bungalow that showed a glimmer of light through drawn +rattan shutters. + +“This is where Carlton and I have lived for the last fortnight,” said +Sevier, getting out. “We can’t afford residences on the Peak, like +you—and, Lord! how we have sizzled here!” + +He led the way to the door, which he opened with a latch-key, and +turned into a large sitting-room, lighted with an oil-lamp. The floor +was bare; the room was almost devoid of furniture, containing only a +couple of long chairs, a camp-chair, and a plain wooden table. On the +table was the remnants of a meal, with a couple of empty ale-bottles. +The windows were shut and closely covered with the blinds, and the air +of the room was intolerably hot and close. + +“Carlton’s been dining by himself to-night,” said Sevier, without +appearing to observe the heat. “He’ll be back in a few minutes, and +meanwhile we’ll have our drink.” + +He produced a bottle from an ice-box, and was crushing some ice, when +the door clicked open and shut again. A heavily built man appeared, +his white duck clothing hanging limply upon him. + +“How are you, old man!” said Sevier, glancing up. “Elliott, this is my +friend, Mr. Carlton. He knows all about you.” + +Carlton acknowledged the introduction by a nod and a searching glance. +He was a dark and heavy-faced man of perhaps forty, with a thick brown +moustache over lips that were small and close, and a small cold gray +eye. + +“Glad to meet you, Mr. Elliott. Yes, I’ve heard of you,” he remarked, +briefly. He sat down in the vacant cane chair and began to fill a +curved briar pipe, which he smoked with much apparent satisfaction. + +Sevier presently handed around three glasses crowned with the Chinese +herb that tasted like mint. The whole concoction did not taste much +like a Southern julep, but it was cooling. “Here’s luck for all of +us!” said Sevier, and they drank. + +There was a silence for a time, while the heat grew more and more +unbearable. + +“Why not have a window open?” Elliott inquired, at last. “Don’t you +find it hot here?” + +“No. Leave them closed,” said Carlton, brusquely. + +There was another long silence, while Carlton smoked imperturbably. +Elliott began to feel slightly nervous; he scarcely knew why. Every +one in the room seemed to be waiting for something. + +“Damn the rain!” Sevier suddenly ejaculated with irritation, and +Carlton rolled an admonishing eye upon him without speaking. Elliott +set down his empty glass and arose. + +“Have another drink,” urged Sevier. “Sit down.” + +“No, thank you. I must go,” Elliott began. + +“No. Sit down!” Carlton gruffly interrupted. + +Taken by surprise, Elliott sat down. The rain splashed on the veranda +in the silence. + +“But I really must go. I have to get to the Peak,” he said again, once +more getting up; but Sevier held up a warning hand. Outside was heard +the rhythmical grunt of sedan-coolies. There were steps on the +veranda. Sevier hurried to the door and opened it, and, to Elliott’s +amazement, the missionary appeared in the lamplight, his face +streaming with rain and perspiration, while he surveyed the group with +an air of apprehension which he endeavoured to cover with dignity. + + + + + CHAPTER XIII. FIRST BLOOD + + +“You sent for me, I think,—gentlemen—” hesitated Laurie, still +standing near the doorway. + +Sevier bustled forward, led him in and closed the door. “Yes, yes, +certainly. It was mighty good of you to come. Your friend is here +already, you see.” + +“I didn’t send for you. What did you come here for?” demanded Elliott, +his mind becoming clouded with suspicions. + +“It was this gentleman,” said the missionary, indicating Carlton with +evident distrust. “He ordered me to come here—in terms that I could +not well refuse. What do you want me to do?” + +“Very little, and nothing hard,” Sevier answered, brightly. He brought +another chair from an adjoining room, and placed it beside the table. +“Sit down. Will you have a drink? No? Well, we merely want you to tell +us what you know of the wreck of the _Clara McClay_.” + +Laurie was trembling visibly. “I told you this morning what I know. Do +you want me to go over it again?” + +“Oh, no. Not that. We want to know where the wreck lies.” + +“I told you that I know no more about it than you do,” protested the +missionary. “How could I, when I was always in my cabin till she +struck, and then adrift in an open boat for a week?” + +“That won’t do!” broke in Carlton, stonily. “Out with it!” + +“My dear sir, don’t be unreasonable,” Laurie pleaded. “How can I tell +you things I know nothing of?” + +Carlton looked at him for a moment, and then turned with a nod to +Sevier. The young Alabaman produced a long, heavy strap from under the +table, and with a movement of incredible celerity he dropped the loop +over Laurie’s head and shoulders. In another second he was buckled +fast to the back of his chair, before he had comprehended that +anything was happening. He gave a shrill cry of alarm as the strap +drew tight, however, and Elliott jumped to his feet. + +“What do you mean?” he cried. “This is an outrage! Set that man loose +instantly.” + +He stepped forward to release the strap himself, but Carlton met him. +“Don’t be a fool, Elliott,” advised the big man. “Ah! there now, you +will have it!” + +Elliott had tried to strike, but Carlton gripped him by the wrists +like a vise. There was a brief tussle, while the missionary wriggled +in the chair, but he could not free himself from that steel grasp. + +“See if he’s armed, Sevier,” advised Carlton, coolly, and the Alabaman +ran his hands over Elliott’s captive person. There were no weapons. + +“We don’t want to hurt you, Elliott,” said Sevier, “but I’m afraid +we’ll have to strap you up likewise to keep you from hurting yourself. +Don’t be frightened. There isn’t going to be any bloodshed, but we’ve +got to get the story out of that old fakir by hook or crook.” + +Another noose dropped over Elliott’s head, pinioning his arms to his +sides. He kicked Carlton on the shins, and fell with the recoil, and +before he could regain his feet Carlton was sitting on his chest and +Sevier was binding his ankles together. They placed him in a sitting +posture against the wall, helpless as a sack. + +“It’s so hot that it would be cruel to gag you,” added Sevier, +considerately, “but if you yell we’ll have to stuff a handkerchief +into your mouth.” + +“Yes, keep your mouth shut,” advised Carlton. “Get the battery, +Sevier.” + +Sevier went into the next room and returned with a box of polished +wood, about a foot in diameter, which he placed upon the table. In +three more journeys he brought out the six large glass cells of an +electric battery, and proceeded to twist their wires together, +connecting the terminals with the wooden box. + +Elliott, breathless with rage, struggling, and heat, watched these +preparations from where he sat, and understood them. The missionary +was to be tortured with the current from a strong induction coil. +There was some relief in this knowledge, for, he thought, the effects +of the current might be unpleasant, but certainly would not be +dangerous, not even exactly painful. + +Laurie struggled violently when they came to tie his elbows to the +arms of the chair, but he was easily overpowered. The ends of the +insulated wires terminated in brass strips, and they bound these upon +the under side of his wrists. + +“All right,” said Carlton, calmly. “Turn it on.” + +A rapid buzzing arose from the box, and the missionary’s body was +agitated by a strong spasm. His shoulders heaved stiffly, and his +whole body strained tensely against the strap across his chest till +the leather creaked. But he kept his teeth tight shut. + +If the induction coil had been known to the judicial torturers of the +middle ages it would certainly have been the favourite method of +applying “the question.” Its peculiarity is that without injuring the +tissues to the slightest degree, it racks the nerves, breaks down the +will, and lacerates the soul itself. But still Laurie remained silent. +Under this direct attack he had evidently summoned up the courage that +had made him one of the most intrepid of the pioneers of the Cross in +heathendom. Sevier shut off the current. + +“Are you ready to tell us now?” demanded the adventurer. + +“No,” said the missionary, between his teeth. + +Elliott admired the old man’s determination, and wondered. He realized +that he had not yet seen all the sides of Laurie’s peculiar +personality. He tried hard to free himself without being observed, and +lacerated his wrists, but could not get a shade of purchase on his +bonds. + +“A peg stronger this time,” advised Carlton, relighting his pipe. + +The contact-breaker buzzed again, and Laurie strained against the +strap. His face became livid; the perspiration streamed down his +cheeks, and his blue eyes were set in an anguished glare. His whole +body twitched frightfully under his bonds, and his heels drummed upon +the floor. Elliott looked on in impotent horror. + +“Oh, here! I can’t stand this!” said Sevier, averting his eyes. + +“Shut off. Now will you talk?” said Carlton. + +Laurie made no answer, but lay heavily back, his muscles still +twitching. They waited; he gasped spasmodically, but did not speak. + +“Again—and a little more current,” commanded Carlton, and Sevier +obeyed with a look of disgust. Laurie’s form was torn by a terrible +convulsion. His mouth opened and shut, and an inarticulate cry came +from his lips. The coil buzzed for almost two minutes. + +“Give him a moment,” Carlton said, without emotion. “Now will you tell +us? Very well; turn it on again, Sevier.” + +“No! no!” gasped the missionary. “I will—tell—you—” + +“Good. Speak up.” + +Laurie lay back and breathed heavily, and with great gulps. He +trembled violently in every muscle, but came slowly back to +self-control. + +“Are you going to tell us?” Carlton repeated. + +“No! Not a word!” the missionary exclaimed, with nervous violence. + +Carlton frowned. “Give him the full strength,” he said, curtly. + +The full strength was applied, and Laurie’s body stiffened +convulsively under its force. To Elliott it seemed that the torture +lasted for hours, listening to the vicious buzz of the coil and +watching the writhing, white-clad form lashed in the long chair. He +struggled in vain to get loose; he shut his eyes, but he could hear +the creaking of the strap as Laurie’s body strained against it; and at +last he heard the missionary utter a stifled, choking sob—“Ah—ah—ah!” + +The noise of the instrument ceased. “Now will you be sensible?” +Carlton inquired. + +“Yes! yes! No more, for God’s sake!” Laurie moaned, and began to cry +with profuse tears. + +“Here, have a drink,” said Sevier. + +He held a full glass to the old man’s lips, and he drank half a pint +of whiskey and water eagerly. + +“Where is it, then? What’s the latitude and longitude?” Carlton +insisted, eagerly. But Laurie had sunk back and closed his eyes. + +“Give him time. He’s worn out with your devilish machine. Cut him +loose if you want him to talk,” advised Elliott from the floor. + +“Hello, I’d forgotten you, old man,” said Sevier. “Keep cool. It’s all +over, and we’ll turn you loose, too, in a minute.” + +He took Elliott’s advice, however, and removed the strap. Then he +stirred the missionary gently, without effect. + +“Why, the man’s asleep!” he exclaimed, bending over him in +astonishment. + +Laurie had, in fact, fallen instantly into a deep stupor. Carlton +soaked a handkerchief in ice-water and applied it to his neck, and the +old man revived. + +“Give us the address, or you’ll get another dose of the juice,” he +commanded. + +The missionary winked, and seemed to gather himself together. He stood +up shakily, his muscles still quivering. + +“It’s Ibo Island, south of the Lazarus Bank,” he said. “It’s latitude +south twelve, forty, thirty-seven; longitude thirty-one, eleven, +twenty.” + +Sevier noted the figures on a scrap of paper. Elliott was amazed at +the statement. Had Laurie really known all along? Or was it simply an +imaginary address given to save himself from further torture? + +“We’ll go there at once,” said Carlton, “and we’ll take you with us. +If the stuff’s there, well and good, and we’ll do the handsome thing +by you. If it’s not there, we’ve got proof of crooked work against you +enough to send you down for ten years’ hard labour, and we’ll hand you +over to the English police. Be sure of your figures, if you don’t want +to die in prison and have your daughter disgraced.” + +Laurie swayed back as if he had received a blow in the face. He stared +for one instant at the dark, merciless countenance of the speaker, and +suddenly caught up one of the empty beer-bottles from the table and +hurled it. Carlton would have been brained if he had not ducked +actively, and the missile smashed on the opposite wall. + +Laurie instantly seized the other bottle, and charged with a bellow of +animal fury, brandishing it as a club. The attack was so astoundingly +unexpected that Sevier stood stone-still. + +“Keep off!” cried Carlton, dodging round the table. He picked up a +long carving-knife from among the supper cutlery, and presented the +point like a bayonet. “Keep off!” he commanded again. “You fool! I’ll +kill you!” + +But Laurie lurched blindly forward, paying no heed. He seemed to +thrust himself upon the blade. The breast of his white clothes +reddened vividly. He dropped the bottle, stood trembling and rocking +for an instant, and fell with a crash upon his back. The knife stood +half-buried between his ribs. He quivered a little and lay still. + +There was an appalled silence. Every man held his breath, gazing at +the prostrate white figure. No one had been prepared for this. + +“I never meant to do it!” murmured Carlton, in an awestruck whisper. +“He ran on the blade.” + +“See if he’s dead,” said Elliott, feeling very sick. Sevier knelt +beside the body and lifted a wrist. + +“He’s done for, I’m afraid,” he said, turning a pale face back to +them. + +“Here, let me up,” Elliott demanded. “Let me see him.” + +They cut him loose, and Elliott examined the body. The missionary’s +work was done. He was dead; the knife must have touched the heart. + +“This is a bad business for us all,” muttered Sevier. “What’ll we do +with him?” + +“Whatever possessed him to break out like that? It was self-defence. +He ran right on the point,” Carlton said, still half under his breath. + +“Yes; but how’ll we prove it?” Sevier rejoined. + +Elliott said nothing. He looked at the dead man, at the crimson stain +that was spreading over the whole coat-front, and tried to avoid +thinking of Margaret. How could he tell her? Of what could he tell +her—for he would have to tell her something. + +Sevier poured out half a glass of whiskey and drank it neat. He stood +apparently pondering for a few minutes, while all three men stood +gazing with strange fascination at the corpse, which regarded the +ceiling imperturbably. + +“You look sick, Elliott. Take some whiskey,” he suddenly remarked. +“Wait, I’ll get another glass.” + +He went into the adjoining room for it, and Elliott swallowed the +liquor without seeing it, almost without tasting it. He had hardly +drunk it when he felt a violent sickness, and sat down. The room +seemed to swim and grow faint before his eyes. + +“She mustn’t know,” he heard himself murmuring. “I can’t tell her.” + +A numb paralysis was creeping over him. He dropped his head on the +table beside the battery, and gold, love, and murder faded into +blackness. + +Years of oblivion seemed to pass over his head. He awoke at intervals +to a sense of violent struggles, nightmares of blood and death, and a +pervading, terrible nausea. Then new cycles of darkness swept down, +interrupted by new dreams of agony. + +He came to himself slowly, aching and sick. He was in bed, and he was +being rocked gently to and fro. The room was small, with the ceiling +close above his head. Light came in through a small round window, and +a perpetual vibration jarred the whole place. + +As his head slowly cleared, he comprehended that he must be in the +stateroom of a steamer, and he imagined indistinctly that he was at +sea, and on his way to Hongkong in pursuit of the mate. But there was +a dull sense of catastrophe at the back of his head, and all at once +he remembered. He had been at Hongkong; he had found Margaret—and the +missionary, and the whole tragedy came back to him. What had happened +after that? He could remember nothing, and he threw himself out of the +lower berth in which he was reposing, and looked through the port +light. There was nothing but ocean to be seen. + +His hand went instinctively to his waist. Thank heaven! his money-belt +was still there, buckled next his body, and he could feel the hard, +round sovereigns through the buckskin. His clothes lay on the sofa. He +hurried into them, omitting the collar, tie, and shoes, and rushed +from the room, with his hair wildly dishevelled. + +His room was close to the foot of the stairway, and he dashed up. He +found himself on the deck of a great steamship, among dozens of +well-dressed passengers who stared at him strangely. A fresh wind was +blowing from a cloudy sky; the decks were wet; the ship rolled freely. +Far astern there was a dark haze on the horizon, but elsewhere nothing +but open water. + +“For God’s sake, where am I? What ship’s this?” demanded Elliott +distractedly from the nearest passenger. + +“What’s the matter? Been seasick?” answered the man, who was lounging +against the rail and smoking a pipe. He looked Elliott over with +evident amusement. + +But Elliott at that moment caught sight of a life buoy lashed upon the +deckhouse. It answered his question; it bore the black lettering: + + “S. S. PERU. SAN FRANCISCO.” + +He tried to collect his still scattered wits, and wondered if he had +boarded that ship while delirious. + +“I have been very sick,” he said to his interlocutor. “I was sick +before I came aboard, and I’d even forgotten where I was. What time +did we sail?” + +“At daylight this morning.” + +“For San Francisco?” + +“Of course. You must have been pretty bad. Has the ship’s doctor seen +you?” + +“I don’t know,” said Elliott, weakly; and he was all at once seized +with another fit of sickness and leaned over the rail, vomiting. When +he had recovered a little he clung limply to a stanchion. He must get +off this ship in some way; he must get back at once to Hongkong, where +Margaret was left helpless. + +“Have we dropped the pilot yet?” he asked of the passenger, who was +looking on with the amused sympathy which is the best that seasickness +can elicit. + +“Dropped him three hours ago.” + +There was not a minute to lose. Elliott hurried down-stairs again in +search of the purser’s office, and burst in unceremoniously. + +“What’s this?” he exclaimed. “How do I come on this ship? I didn’t +take passage on her. I’ve got no ticket. I must go back to Hongkong.” + +“What the devil did you come aboard for, then?” inquired the purser, +not unnaturally. + +“I don’t know how I got aboard. I woke up just now sick in my berth.” + +“You couldn’t have got a berth without a ticket. Say, you’ve been +seasick, haven’t you? Hasn’t it knocked out your memory a little? See +if you haven’t got a ticket about you somewhere. They haven’t been +taken up yet.” + +“Certainly I haven’t!” Elliott protested, but he felt through his +pockets. In the breast of his coat he came upon a large folded yellow +document which, to his utter amazement, proved really to be a ticket +from Victoria to San Francisco, in the name of Wingate Elliott. + +“I never bought this. I never saw it before!” he cried. + +“Let’s see it,” said the purser. “Second cabin. It seems all correct.” +He rang a bell. “Ask the chief steward to come here a moment,” he said +to the Chinese boy who responded. + +“Anyhow,” Elliott insisted, “I’ve got to get off this ship and back to +Hongkong, as quick as I can. Don’t you call at Yokohama?” + +“We don’t stop anywhere this side of San Francisco.” + +The chief steward came in at this moment, and looked at Elliott with a +smile of recognition. “Good morning. Feel better, sir?” he inquired. + +“This gentleman doesn’t know how he got on board,” said the purser. +“His ticket’s all right. Did you see him when he came on?” + +“Sure I did,” responded the steward, cheerfully. “I helped to get him +to his stateroom. He came aboard last night about eleven o’clock, with +a couple of his friends holding him up. You sure had been having a +swell time, sir,—no offence. They’d been giving you a little send-off +dinner at the Hongkong Club, don’t you remember? The gentlemanly dark +young fellow explained it to me, and asked me to have the doctor look +in on you when you woke up. How do you feel, sir?” + +“Can you tell me when this ticket was bought?” Elliott asked. + +The purser looked at it again. “Bought last night. It must have been +the last ticket sold for this ship. You were lucky to get passage so +late.” + +“Shanghaied, by God!” cried Elliott. “Drugged and kidnapped! I’ve got +to see the captain. Somebody’ll settle with me for this!” + +“You’d better take time to put on a collar and shoes,” the purser +advised. “A minute more won’t matter. The captain can’t help you, I’m +afraid.” + +So it appeared. The commander of the _Peru_ listened sympathetically +to what Elliott thought advisable to tell him, but offered no prospect +of assistance. + +“I don’t see what we can do for you, Mr.—er—Ellis. We don’t stop +anywhere, and you can’t expect me to put back to Hongkong.” + +“Couldn’t you transfer me to a west-bound ship if we should meet one?” + +“I’m afraid not. We carry the mails, and we’re under contract not to +slow down for anything but to save life. I take it that this isn’t a +question of saving life.” + +“No, but it’s a question of millions. Good heavens! I stand to lose +enough to buy this ship three times over.” + +“That may be, but I’m afraid I can’t act on it. Cheer up. Things will +turn out better than you think. You’ll find the _Peru_ a pleasant +place for a vacation.” + +“Is there any way for me to send a message back to Victoria?” + +“Not that I know. Or, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. If we run close +enough to anything bound for Hongkong to signal her, I’ll give you a +chance to throw a bottle overboard with a letter in it. That’s the +best I can do for you, and I can’t slow down to do that.” + +Elliott chafed with wrath as he left the cabin of the captain, who +regarded him with an interest that was obviously unmixed with much +credulity. And yet he was obliged to admit that his story was +incredible on the face of it, and not helped out by his own haggard +and incoherent manner. + +He sat down beside the rail, still feeling weak and ill, and yet too +angry to care how he felt. Carlton and Sevier had played him a clever +trick, almost a stroke of genius. They had put him comfortably out of +the way for three weeks, to be landed on the other side of the world, +while they sailed away to recover the wrecked treasure, and to escape +the investigation when the missionary’s murder should be discovered. +With a start of from three weeks to a month they could reasonably hope +to have time to plunder the _Clara McClay_ without interruption. + +Still, as Elliott grew cooler, he could not attach much importance to +the directions given by Laurie. He still felt convinced that the +missionary had known no more than himself. He had made a false +confession under the strain of the torture, and his desperation at the +prospect of going to the Mozambique Channel clearly indicated its +falsity. + +But it was of Margaret that he thought, and his heart was wrung. He +pictured her waiting all night for her father’s return and for +himself. Perhaps she was waiting still, in such an agony of alarm as +he dared not imagine, while the body of the missionary was probably +floating in the harbour at the foot of the Chinese city. She had no +money. She knew no one in Victoria. + +Elliott jumped up and paced the deck feverishly. Surely something +could be done. China was almost out of sight in the southwest, and he +would have given his left hand to have been able to reach that bluish +line that was falling away at fifteen knots an hour. And yet, what +could he do? He was at sea for almost three weeks. + +There was the hope that he might be able to send a message back to +Victoria, and he went to the saloon at once to write it, in case an +opportunity should present itself. But it was hard to decide what to +say. He did not know whether she had learned of her father’s death, +but judged it unlikely. Carlton and Sevier must have disposed of the +body so that it would not be found for some time. But above all +things, Margaret must leave Victoria at once. + + “Your father is seriously ill,” he wrote at last. “He is + with me. We got aboard this ship by a mistake which I will + explain when I see you, and we are bound for San + Francisco. You must follow us at once. Take the next + steamer. If you will call on the American consul and give + him the enclosure, he will arrange for your passage. Don’t + delay a day. + + “Wingate Elliott. + + “On board S. S. _Peru_.” + +With the letter he enclosed a note to the American consul begging him +to furnish Miss Laurie with such money as she might require, and +enclosing a promissory note for a hundred dollars. He then obtained an +empty beer-bottle from the smoking-room steward and corked up this +correspondence tightly, along with a sovereign to reward the finders. + +The opportunity came late that afternoon. The _Peru_ passed a British +three-master booming down a fair wind toward the China coast, and the +captain was as good as his word. After an exchange of signals, the +Britisher lowered a boat, and the _Peru_ even deviated a little from +her course to approach it. Elliott cut a life-buoy from the rigging, +tied his bottle fast to it and cast it overboard. + +The big liner tore past the boat like a locomotive, tossing it high on +the wash of her passage. Elliott had not before realized her speed. He +ran to the stern, and saw the boatmen fish the precious float from the +water. + +“You’ll have to pay for that life-belt, you know,” said the second +officer, at his shoulder. “You wouldn’t have got it if I’d seen you in +time.” + +Elliott had to pay for more than the life-belt. He had nothing with +him but the clothes he stood in, and he was obliged to purchase a +clean shirt, fresh collars, handkerchiefs,—a dozen small +articles,—from the stewards, paying sea prices, which differ from land +prices according to the needs of the purchaser. Elliott’s need was +great, and he felt almost grateful to his kidnappers for having left +him his money-belt. He felt certain that it was to Sevier that he owed +that. + +He was seasick most of the time during the first four days of the +voyage, for the first time in his life—the result, he supposed, of the +potent drug that Sevier had administered. After that, he rallied, and +began to be conscious of the bracing effect of the cool ocean breezes +after hot Hongkong. But never did a voyage pass so slowly. He had been +impatient in going to Bombay; he had fretted between Bombay and +Hongkong, but now he walked the deck almost incessantly, and was +always the first to look at the daily record of the ship’s run posted +at noon in the saloon. He had never sailed the Pacific before, nor +imagined that it was so wide. + + + + + CHAPTER XIV. THE CLUE FOUND + + +But twenty days cannot stretch to infinity, even at sea. The _Peru_ +entered the Golden Gate early in the forenoon on the 9th of August, +and Elliott, having no baggage to worry him, hurried at once to the +offices of the Eastern Mail Steamship Company. + +He waited anxiously while a youthful clerk flipped over the letters +and telegrams in the rack, but English honesty was vindicated. There +were two brown cable messages for him, and he ripped them open +nervously. The first was from Henninger. It had been forwarded from +Hongkong, and read: + +“Will search. Come Zanzibar immediately.” + +This was not what he wanted, but the second proved to be from +Margaret, saying: + +“Sailing twenty-eighth, steamer _Imperial_.” + +Elliott felt as if a mighty weight had been heaved off his breast. +Margaret must be then at sea, but her passage would be longer than his +own. The ships of the Imperial line called at Yokohama and Honolulu, +and on investigation he learned that the steamer _Imperial_ was not +due at San Francisco until the last day of August. He had nearly three +weeks to wait, but of course he would wait for her. The treasure was a +secondary issue just then, and then the question arose of how he was +to meet her with the word of her father’s death. + +For the actual fact he could feel but little regret. Laurie was not a +man for this world; he was too high, or too low, as one pleased to +regard it; and as a guardian for his daughter he was totally +worthless. Sooner or later open disgrace was certain, and the grief +would have been worse to Margaret than her father’s death. It was +better that he had died when he did, with his halo untarnished—to his +daughter’s eyes at least. + +Elliott spent the next days in feverish unrest. He had nothing to do, +and could not have done it if he had, and he half-longed for +Margaret’s coming and half-dreaded it. He would have to tell her the +whole story of the treasure and of the murder. How would she receive +it? And would it, or would it not be taking an unfair advantage of her +helplessness to tell her that he loved her and wished nothing so much +as to protect her for the rest of her life? + +He was rapidly becoming worn out by these plans, doubts, and problems, +and half-poisoned with the number of secrets and difficulties which he +had to keep locked up in his own breast, when a sudden recollection +came to him with relief. Bennett was in the city. + +Or, at least, he should be here. According to the arrangement he was +to go to San Francisco as soon as he could leave the hospital in St. +Louis, and surely his broken bones must have mended long ago. He was +to have wired his address to Henninger, and probably he had done so, +but Henninger was far away, and the fact would not help Elliott to +find his former travelling companion. + +He dropped a note to Bennett, however, in the city general delivery, +and also wrote to him in care of the hospital, on the chance that the +letter would be forwarded. Two days passed; it was evident that the +former letter had not reached him, and it would be necessary to wait +till an answer could arrive from St. Louis. + +Elliott waited, feeling that he had merely added another uncertainty +to his already plentiful store of them. He waited for ten days, and +then as he entered the lobby of his hotel he saw a man leaning over +the desk to speak to the clerk, and his back looked somehow familiar. + +Elliott stepped up to the man, and touched his shoulder. + +“Bennett! Is this you?” + +The man turned with a start. It was indeed the adventurer, but dressed +in a style indicating almost unrecognizable prosperity. He stared at +Elliott for a moment, and then gripped him with both hands, emitting +an explosively inarticulate ejaculation. + +“By thunder!” he cried. “I couldn’t place you. I never saw you in a +boiled shirt before. Let’s get out of this. I never was so glad to see +a man in my life.” + +He stepped out of the line and they left the hotel. As soon as they +were in the street he clutched Elliott’s arm. + +“Have you got it?” he demanded, under his breath. + +Elliott laughed a little wearily. “No, we haven’t got it. I’ve given +up thinking that we ever will, though Henninger has just wired me that +he’s going to search the whole Mozambique Channel.” + +“Isn’t Henninger with you?” + +“No, he’s in Zanzibar, and the other fellows are strung out all along +the East Africa coast. It’s a long story, and there’s not much comfort +in it, but let’s go over to the park and I’ll tell you.” + +“Start it as we walk along. Man, I’ve been hungering and thirsting for +some news from that job.” + +So on the street Elliott began the story, of the great game in +Nashville that had financed the expedition, of the voyages of the +party, and of his own adventures on the train in Bombay and Hongkong. +He finished it on a park bench, with the killing of the missionary, +and the high-class form of “shanghaing,” of which he had himself been +the victim. Of Margaret he judged it best to say nothing. + +Bennett listened feverishly, interrupting the story with impatient +questions. When Elliott had finished he sat in meditation for a couple +of minutes. + +“Henninger is right,” he pronounced at last. “The only thing now is to +search the channel. Are you sure the address your old missionary gave +was a fake?” + +“I can’t believe it was anything else. Why else would he have risked +killing rather than have it tested?” + +“It looks so. His directions must have been somewhere near the right +spot, though; I’ve been looking at maps. Anyhow, I’ll know the island +again when I see it.” + +“The wreck will mark it, won’t it?” + +“The wreck has probably broken up and sunk out of sight by this time. +That’s a point in our favour, for the worst danger is from the coast +traders and Arab riffraff. Let’s start right away for Zanzibar, by the +next steamer.” + +“I can’t leave for a week or so,” Elliott confessed, and he explained +his reasons for delay. + +“I don’t like any women in this thing. This is strictly a man’s game,” +commented Bennett. + +“Oh, Miss Laurie won’t be in it. But I wired her to come here, and +I’ve got to meet her. Why, she thinks her father is alive and here +with me.” + +“Yes, I suppose you’ve got to wait,” said Bennett, and was silent for +several seconds. “But, damn it! this is awful!” he exploded, suddenly. +“Every minute counts. Henninger’ll be waiting for us. That other gang +must be half-way there by now, and when they don’t find the wreck on +Ibo Island they’ll look somewhere else. They’ve got three weeks’ start +of us, with ten thousand miles less to go.” + +“They won’t find anything,” Elliott attempted, soothingly. + +“How do you know they won’t? They’ve got as good a chance as we, +haven’t they? Better, by thunder! Besides, there are all sorts of Arab +and Berber craft sailing up and down the channel. It seems to me +you’ve done nothing all through but waste time.” + +“If you’re not satisfied with my ways, you’d better go and join +Henninger by yourself,” said Elliott, growing irritated. “You can +count me out of it. I’m staying here for the present.” + +Bennett looked for a moment as if inclined to take Elliott at his +word, and then his face relaxed and he began to laugh. + +“Don’t be an idiot, you old jay!” he exclaimed, finally. “Of course +I’ll wait for you. You waited for me in St. Louis, didn’t you? +Only—well, I’ve been waiting now for four months, and it’s getting on +my nerves.” + +“Have you been here all that time?” + +“Oh, no. The first month I spent in the hospital, where you had the +pleasure of seeing me wrapped in splints. But as soon as I got out I +made a bee-line for the Pacific coast. I left a forwarding address at +the hospital, and I expected to have you fellows wire me. I’ve written +to every point I could think of to catch some of you.” + +“Got any money?” + +“You bet I have. I got—what do you think?—eight hundred dollars out of +the railroad for my wounds and bruises. I asked for two thousand and +got eight hundred. I had to give half of it to my lawyer, though,” he +added, regretfully. “Then, a couple of weeks ago, a fellow put me on +to a good thing at the race-track out here. It was at five to one. I +plunged a hundred on it, and she staggered home by a nose. He’s going +to give me another good tip on Saturday—get-away day, you know, and a +long shot.” + +“Don’t you touch it,” said Elliott. “We’ll need all your spare cash. +I’ve got none too much myself, and we’ve got a long way to go.” + +The prospect of all the weary miles of sea and land that he must still +travel on the treasure hunt, in fact, had come to oppress him. He had +already all but encircled the globe, and he sickened at the thought of +another month-long voyage. He was tired, mortally tired, of stewards, +and saloon tables, and smoking-rooms, and he told himself that if he +ever found himself once more in some silent, sunshiny American village +he would contentedly vegetate there like a plant for the rest of his +days. + +But before that he would have to think of how to meet Margaret, who +would be there in a week, and of some words to prepare her for the +final explanation. This week passed as swiftly as the two first had +slowly. He spent it in lounging about uneasily, and in long +conferences with Bennett, and on the afternoon of the twenty-ninth he +heard that the _Imperial_ had been sighted. She was, in fact, then +entering the harbour. + +But he was still without a speech prepared when the gangplank was +opened, and the flood of passengers began to pour down. He saw +Margaret, and waved his hand, but even from a distance he was shocked +at her pallor, and startled by the fact that she was wearing complete +black. He waited for her outside the customs enclosure. + +“You see I’ve come. I hoped you would meet me,” she said. + +“Of course I would meet you,” he protested, unsteadily, dreading the +expected inquiry for her father. On a nearer view her face was even +more drawn and haggard than he had thought; she looked as if she had +not slept for a week, but she had met him with a brave smile. + +“I know all about it,” she added. + +“All? What?” stammered Elliott. + +“Everything. They found my father’s body the day after I got your +letter. It was in an empty house. I saw him buried in Happy Valley.” + +“Margaret, I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t dare—” + +“Oh, yes, I know; it was kind of you. And oh! I was so glad to get +away from that awful city. But for your letter I think I should have +died. I thought at first that you had deserted us, and I was all +alone. That night of waiting—can I ever forget it! The consul and his +wife were very kind—but I was all alone.” Her voice was choking, and +she was trying hard to keep the sobs down. + +“Don’t cry, for heaven’s sake,—dear,” said Elliott, in deep trouble. +“The worst is over now. I’ll see that everything is right. Just depend +on me.” + +“I suppose the worst is over,” she said, drying her eyes. “But I feel +as if it were only beginning. How can I live? My whole life feels at +an end, somehow. But I will try to be strong. I was brave in Hongkong, +when I had everything to do—but now. Never mind, I will be brave +again, as my poor father was, and as he would want me to be.” + +“That’s right. Here’s your hotel. There’s a good room engaged for you, +and you’ll find they’ll make you very comfortable. Ask for everything +you want,” said Elliott. + +“You must tell me first all you know about father’s death.” + +Elliott shuddered. “Not to-day. You’re tired out; you must be. I’ll +tell you to-morrow.” + +“No. Now—at once,” she said, impatiently. “I can’t sleep till I know +it all. Then I’ll never ask you to speak of it again.” + +Elliott, thus cornered, told her somewhat baldly the story of how the +missionary had been decoyed to the house on the slope of the mountain, +and how he had met his death. He touched lightly on the torture, and +said nothing of the treasure. The latter was too long a story. + +“They stabbed him because he would not tell them something that they +believed he knew. In reality he knew nothing of it. I think it was +really by accident that he was wounded. I do not believe that they +intended to do more than frighten him.” + +“And you saw it all?” + +“I was lying tied hand and foot on the floor. They drugged me +afterward and put me on a ship for San Francisco.” + +“What was it that they wanted him to tell them?” + +“It was a business matter,” Elliott said, hastily. “Something that he +knew nothing about, but they thought he did. I don’t quite understand +the details of it myself.” + +He had feared a terrible scene, but Margaret took the story +courageously. + +“What became of the—the murderers?” she asked, after a silence. + +“I have no idea. Did you hear of any one being arrested?” + +“No. There was an inquest—but no one arrested, at least before I +left.” She was twisting her handkerchief into shreds between her +fingers. “Thank you,” she said, suddenly, trying to smile again. “It +was kind of you to tell me. You have been so good to me! Now—now, +please go!” + +Elliott fled from the hotel, immeasurably relieved that it was over. +The next day, he said to himself, he would send her back to her aunt +in Nebraska, where she would probably wish to go, and he himself would +sail with Bennett for Africa. When he returned it would be with his +share of the great treasure. He felt the need of it now; he wanted it +more than ever—not for his own sake, but for Margaret’s. + +Next morning, when he called on Margaret, she made no reference to her +father. She was very pale and evidently dispirited, and he took her +out driving. She attempted to talk on casual topics, but with +indifferent success, and she did not speak of leaving San Francisco. + +It was the same on the next day, and the next. Margaret no longer +cared either to drive or to walk. She received Elliott in her +sitting-room at the hotel when he came to see her. She was listless, +languid, paler than ever. As she was, in a manner, his guest, he could +not well suggest to her that she return to Lincoln, but he saw clearly +that she would be ill unless she were given a change of scene, and +something to divert her mind. San Francisco still was too suggestive +of Hongkong, and he noticed that she shrunk painfully from the sight +of a Chinaman. She must leave the city, he thought; but perhaps she +did not have even enough money for her ticket to Lincoln. + +After long pondering, he broached the matter on the fourth day. + +“If you’d like to go back to your aunt at Lincoln, Margaret,” he said, +“I know a fellow here in the Union Pacific office, and I can get you +transportation without its costing you a cent.” + +“Don’t you know?” she answered. “My aunt is dead. She died shortly +after you left Lincoln. She was caught out in that storm that found us +at Salt Lake—do you remember it?—and took cold, and died of pneumonia. +I have no one in the world now. That was the chief reason why I went +to Hongkong.” + +“No, you never told me that,” said Elliott, startled, and worried. He +would have liked to say what he felt that, under the circumstances, he +had no right to say; he had trouble to restrain it; he wanted to +relieve her at once from all her material troubles. + +“And this brings me to what I should have said long ago,” she went on. +“I am—it’s humiliating to confess it—but I have no money. All I had I +spent in Hongkong. I want to get work here. I’m strong; I can do +anything. Have you any idea where I could try?” + +Elliott started with horror; the confession wrenched his heart. But it +occurred to him that he could subsidize some one to take music lessons +from her. + +“Why, yes,” he said. “I’m glad you spoke of it. I know one girl here, +at least, who wants music lessons. She’ll pay well for them, too—four +or five dollars an hour.” + +“Oh!” gasped Margaret. “Do they pay such prices in California? But +they will want something extraordinary.” + +“No, you’ll do splendidly,” Elliott assured her. “Then I have to go +away myself,—on that hunt for the easy millions I spoke of in +Hongkong.” + +“And you never told me just what it was,” said Margaret. “But, before +you go, I want you to tell me just what it was that those men wanted +my father to tell them.” + +Elliott reflected. “Yes, I might as well tell you,” he said, slowly. +“It is mixed up with my own venture, too. I cut the story short the +other day, for fear of hurting you too much.” And for the third time +Elliott told the story of the wrecked gold-ship, and of his own +efforts in the chase. + +“They killed him because he would not tell where the wreck was?” she +soliloquized, when he had finished. + +“He could not tell them what he knew nothing of.” + +“But my father did know where that ship was wrecked,” she said, +looking him full in the face. + +“What? Impossible!” cried Elliott, staggered. + +“He knew where it was wrecked. That man who was in the boat with +him—the mate—told him before he died, and gave him the exact position, +with the latitude and longitude. My father told me of it. He had +planned to go there sometime and see if anything could be recovered +from the wreck. I found the map, with the place marked, among his +papers. But he thought that no one else knew of it.” + +Elliott, still half-dazed, reflected that the missionary had not +ceased to astonish him, even after death. + +“He intended to give you a share of it. Do you remember that I once +said that he might be able to do something great for you?” + +“Well, in that case,” said Elliott, trying to focus this new aspect of +events, “did he tell those fellows the right place? If he did, it’s +too late to look.” + +“Did he tell them anything?” + +“He said the wreck was on Ibo Island, latitude and longitude +something. I supposed that he said it merely to save himself—the first +place he could think of. Do you remember where the exact spot was?” + +“No. But I have the map in my trunk.” + +“Would you mind getting it? Of course,” he added, “you’ll have an +equal share in whatever we get out of it. But if you really know the +right spot there isn’t a minute to lose.” + +She sat without moving, however. “Come and see me this afternoon,” she +said, finally. “I want to think it over.” + +Elliott was astonished at this request. Surely she could not distrust +him, though unquestionably it was her secret. He reflected dubiously +that there is never any knowing what a woman will decide to do with a +delicate case. + +“You said that one of your friends—one of your partners—was in the +city,” she said, as he left. “Please bring him with you this +afternoon. I think it would be right.” + +More bewildered than ever, Elliott went away to find Bennett, who was +able to throw no light on his perplexity. But they returned together +to the hotel at three o’clock, where Margaret received them with a +manner which was more animated than in the forenoon. + +“This is the map,” she said, holding up a folded piece of paper, +spotted and stained. “I have just been looking at it again. What place +did you say my father told them?” + +“Ibo Island, latitude south twelve, forty something. I forget the +longitude,” replied Elliott. “Do you think that’s it?” + +She consulted the map again. + +“No. It isn’t Ibo Island, and it isn’t latitude twelve, forty, at all. +It’s nearly a hundred miles south of that, I should think. It must be +nearly two hundred miles from Ibo Island.” + +“I thought he wasn’t telling the truth,” said Elliott, tactlessly. + +“No,” the girl flashed back. “He died with an untruth on his lips for +my sake. He thought I might still profit by this gold. Tell me,” she +went on, after a nervous pause, “have those other men any right to +it?” + +“No more than we have.” + +“Does the treasure belong to any one? I mean, will it be defrauding +any one if we take it?” + +“Apparently not. It’s treasure-trove. But where is it?” + +She folded the map and stowed it inside her blouse. “I’ll take you to +it,” she said. + +“You?” exclaimed Elliott. “You couldn’t.” + +“You can’t find it without my help, it seems. I will give you this map +when our boat is out of sight of land—the boat in which we go to find +the wreck. You will have to take me with you.” + +Bennett looked closely at the girl, and smiled quietly. + +“But, great heavens! you don’t know what you’re asking,” cried +Elliott. “You don’t know what sort of a rough crew we’ll ship. It may +come to fighting.” + +“I’m not afraid. And you know I can shoot.” + +“It’s simply out of the question,” Elliott said, decisively. “You must +stay here or go back to Lincoln. You’ll give us the map, and we’ll +bring back your share for you. You can trust us, I hope?” + +“It isn’t that I’m afraid. But I have no friends now nor money. No one +knows anything of me; what does it matter what I do? And I can’t stay +here. I think I should die if I had to stay in San Francisco. I must +do something—I don’t care what. Oh, set it down as a girl’s foolish +freak—anything you like!” she exclaimed, passionately. “But I go with +your expedition, or it goes without the map.” + +Elliott looked helplessly at Bennett, who said nothing. Then a new +idea struck him. + +“But we’re too late anyhow. Those other fellows have a month’s start, +and they will certainly search all the islands within two or three +hundred miles.” + +“I was thinking of that,” said Bennett. “I don’t see why Miss Laurie +shouldn’t go with us if she’s determined to do it. But the time? Let’s +figure it out.” + +“I’m afraid it’s hopeless,” said Elliott. “It’s three weeks from here +to Hongkong.” + +“Well, let’s see. Suppose they sailed within a day or two after you +did. It’s about two weeks to Bombay. They’ll have trouble in getting a +steamer for the East African coast, because there isn’t any regular +service. They’re certain to be delayed there for ten days or two +weeks, and when they do sail it will be on a slow ship, because there +isn’t anything else in those waters. It’ll take them over a month to +get to Zanzibar.” + +“They may be there by this time, then,” remarked Elliott. + +“Well, suppose they are. It’ll take them nearly a month to fit out +their expedition, hire a vessel, get a crew, divers and diving-suits, +and they’ll be three or four days in sailing to Ibo Island. They’ll +spend a day or two there, and then they’ll begin to look elsewhere. If +the right place is over two hundred miles away, it’ll take them two or +three weeks to get to it. They can’t reasonably get to the _Clara +McClay_ in less than six to seven weeks from to-day.” + +“But it will take us the same six or seven weeks to get there, not +speaking of the distance from here to Hongkong,” Elliott objected. + +“Yes, if we go that way. But rail travel is quicker than land, and +we’re only five days from New York.” + +“By Jove! I see,” cried Elliott, catching the idea. + +“New York to London is seven days, if we make the right connections. +London to Durban is about seventeen days, isn’t it? It’ll take a few +more days to get to Delagoa Bay, and say another week to sail up the +channel to the wreck. Total about five weeks. It gives us a margin of +about one week. We’ll wire Henninger at once to get his outfit ready +at Delagoa Bay, and we’ll sail the moment we get there.” + +“There’s just a chance, I do believe,” exclaimed Elliott. “But why not +start our expedition from Zanzibar? It’s nearer.” + +“So it is, and that’s why Sevier will choose it. We don’t want to meet +him there or anywhere else.” + +“Suppose we meet his gang at the wreck?” + +“We must beat them off.” + +“Yes, there’s a chance—a fighting chance, after all,” said Elliott, +getting up and beginning to walk about restlessly. “That is, if Miss +Laurie will be reasonable,” looking at her imploringly. + +“I am perfectly reasonable.” + +“You’ll give us the steering directions, then?” + +“Not till we are on board, at Delagoa Bay. Come, we’ll argue the +question as we go. There’s no time to lose now. Can we get a train +to-night?” + +“The Overland leaves at seven o’clock,” said Bennett. “It’s as she +says. There’s no time to talk. We’ve got just the narrowest margin +now, and our only chance is in knowing exactly where to go when we +sail from Africa.” + +“I’ll be ready at six,” said Margaret, decisively. “We’ll talk it all +over on the train.” + + + + + CHAPTER XV. THE OTHER WAY ROUND THE WORLD + + +Before the train left Elliott cabled again to Henninger, this time +using the usual code for abbreviation’s sake: + +“Found what we wanted. Am coming with Bennett. Have expedition ready +at Delagoa Bay, not Zanzibar. Buy arms. Wire American Line, New York.” + +He also telegraphed to New York for berths on the Southampton steamer +sailing on the eighth day from that time. He reserved three berths, +though he was resolved that only two should be used. “She may as well +come on to Chicago,” he reflected, “or even to New York. The East is a +better place than the West to leave her.” But somewhere on the +cross-continent journey he intended to convince her of the folly of +her resolution. + +But somehow he did not feel equal to the endeavour at present, so he +established Margaret comfortably in a chair-car, and went to smoke +with Bennett. + +“This is a nice state of things,” he said, biting a cigar irritably in +two. “Why didn’t you back me up? I thought you were against having +women in a man’s game.” + +“So I am,” replied Bennett, who did not appear dissatisfied. “But I +never argue with a woman when she’s made up her mind. Give her time +and she’ll change it herself. Miss Laurie will give us the map all +right, and if she won’t—” + +“Then she’ll have to go with us.” + +“No. We can take it” + +“Take it? Do you mean by force?” + +“Yes, if necessary. Of course we’ll give her a square divvy.” + +“By heavens, Bennett!” said Elliott, “if you ever try to lay a hand on +that girl I’ll shoot you. Yes, I will. So there’s your plan of robbing +her, and you can put that in your pipe and smoke it. That map’s her +own, and I’m here to see that she does as she likes with it.” + +“All right; have it your own way,” said Bennett, easily. “I don’t care +a twopenny hang if she does sail with us. She seems to be a sensible +sort of girl who wouldn’t bother. It was you who kicked about it.” + +“I know it was, and you’ll see that I’ll convince her yet,” replied +Elliott, gloomily. After a long pause, “What do you think of her?” he +demanded, almost uncontrollably. + +“Oh, I don’t know,” responded Bennett, between puffs. “Regular Western +type, isn’t she? Sensible, nice girl, I guess. I didn’t see much in +her.” + +Elliott stared in amazement at such lack of penetration, threw down +his cigar, and went back to the car where Margaret was settled with a +heap of magazines, which she was not reading. Bennett meanwhile smiled +thoughtfully at the approaching foot-hills with the air of a man for +whom life has no more surprises. + +There was plenty of time now to argue the question of Margaret’s +accompanying the expedition, and Elliott argued it. The girl did +little more than listen, sometimes smiling at the floods of polemic +that were poured upon her all the way across the foot-hills, through +the gorges and tunnels and trestles of the mountains, and down the +slope to the desert. She would listen, but she would not discuss. She +would talk of any other subject but that one. It seemed to Elliott’s +watchful eye, however, that she was becoming a little more cheerful, +that she was beginning to recuperate a little from the terrible strain +of her experiences, and he said, mentally, that it was perhaps a good +thing, after all, that she should go as far as New York. + +Bennett absolutely refused to assist him, and remained for the most +part in the smoking-car while the train skated down the eastern slope +and roared out upon the great desert. At Ogden Elliott noted with +satisfaction that they were maintaining schedule time. At Denver they +were only an hour late. The country was becoming level, so that there +were no topographical obstacles to speed. + +“This is my country!” exclaimed Margaret. She was watching the +gray-green rolling plain slowly revolve upon the middle distance. A +couple of horsemen in wide hats and chaparejos were loping across it +half a mile away. “How I should like to get off, get a horse, and just +tear across those plains!” + +“Do it, for goodness’ sake,” said Elliott. “We’ll be in Kansas City +to-morrow, and you can wait there or in Lincoln till we come back with +your share of the plunder.” + +“No, I’ve something else to think of. Are we going to catch the +steamer, do you think?” + +“You are not,” Elliott retorted. + +She smiled rather wearily, trying to see the cow-punchers, who were +out of sight. + +“How on earth can I convince you of your foolishness? You seem to have +no idea of the rough sort of a trip it will be, nor the gang of +cutthroats we may ship for a crew. Why, you don’t even know what sort +of men my partners are.” + +“I suppose they’re like you and Mr. Bennett. I’m not afraid of them, +nor of anything else.” + +“But can’t you trust us—can’t you trust me?—to look after your +interests?” + +“You know it isn’t that,” cried Margaret. “It’s unkind of you to put +it that way. Oh, don’t harass me!” she appealed. “I am wretched enough +as it is. Don’t you see that I have to do something to keep myself +from thinking?” + +Against such an argument a man is always defenceless, and Elliott +abandoned the attack, baffled again. But he was not the less +determined that she should not leave America, and he reserved himself +for a final struggle at New York. + +They arrived at Omaha on Thursday night, and on the following morning +they were in Chicago. They had just thirty-five minutes for a hurried +breakfast and a brief walk up and down the vast, smoky platform before +they left for Buffalo. It was almost the last stage of the land +journey. + +“We’ll make it without a hitch,” said Bennett, cheerfully. “This is +better than the way I raced across the continent before on this job. +Do you remember that?” + +But they missed connections at Buffalo for the first time on the +transcontinental journey, and were obliged to wait for several hours +for the New York express. But Buffalo was left behind that night, and +on the next morning they arrived at Jersey City, and crossed the +ferry. New York harbour, sparkling in the mild September sunshine, +seemed to congratulate them. It was Sunday morning, and there was +plenty of time, for the _St. Paul_ did not sail till Monday noon. + +Margaret went to a quiet, but expensive hotel, which Elliott selected +for her, while he lodged himself with Bennett at the same house where +the party had made rendezvous with Sullivan four months ago. The place +looked the same as ever, and it was hard to realize that he had +circled the globe since that time, and it was not pleasant to remember +that he did not seem to be appreciably nearer the lost treasure. +However, they had a definite clue at last,—or, rather, Margaret had +one. It was now only a question of time, and of obtaining this clue +from its possessor, who must go no further eastward. + +At the offices of the American Line, Elliott found a cablegram from +Henninger awaiting him. It read: + +“Wire directions. Dangerous to wait.” + +Elliott showed this message to Margaret. “This settles it, you see,” +he said. “Henninger probably has his expedition all ready to sail, and +we’ll all have to stay here till the work is done.” + +“Are you going to stay, too?” she interrogated. + +“Well,” Elliott hesitated, having no such intention. “I guess Bennett +and I will go on, though I don’t expect we can get there in time to +join the boys before they sail. But you’ll stay here, of course. Would +you rather stay in New York, or go into the country?” + +“I’m going to South Africa,” remarked Margaret, looking out the +window. + +“You’ve gone just as far as you are going.” + +“I haven’t. You need me. Now, don’t rehearse all your arguments to me; +I’ve heard them all, and they’re all sound. But I know the one you are +thinking of, but daren’t mention—that it would be unladylike and not +respectable for me to go.” + +Elliott laughed. “I must confess that that argument hadn’t entered my +mind.” + +“Then I’m not going to give up what I want to do, just because I +happen to be a girl. I expect I’d be as useful as any one of your +party. I’m strong; and I can outride you and outshoot you, as you know +very well. Do you think I care what any one will say? Nobody in the +world takes interest in me enough to say anything. Do you want me to +remind myself again that I have no money? I’ve been living on you; I +know it. But I can endure that because I shall soon be able to pay +back every cent, but I’m not going to sit here and wait till you come +back from your adventures and give me what you think my secret is +worth. I’m going to share in it all, whatever comes—fortune or +fighting. There’s nobody in the world now who cares whether I live or +die, or—what’s more important, I suppose—whether I’m ladylike or not.” + +“How about me?” said Elliott. He hesitated, and then plunged +desperately ahead. “Margaret, you’ve said that before, and I can’t +stand your feeling like that. Look here, I may as well tell you now: +all that gold is nothing to me in comparison with your unhappiness or +danger. Let me look after you and think of you; you’ll find me better +than nobody. I’m asking you to marry me, Margaret.” + +He felt at once conscious of having blundered, but it was too late. + +“Oh, how dare you!” she flashed. She jumped up, and stood vibrating in +every nerve. “Do you think that I would marry you because you pity me? +Perhaps you thought that I was trying to work on your feelings, so +that you had to say that to me! Don’t be afraid; I’m not going to +accept you. I’m not going to South Africa merely to be in your +society. I suppose you thought that! How dared you?” + +She sank down on the sofa again and burst into passionate sobbing, +with her face buried in the cushions. + +“Margaret—” ventured Elliott, approaching her. + +“Go away!” she cried, lifting a face in which the eyes still blazed +behind the tears. “I will go with you—I will—now more than ever—but +I’ll never speak to you!” + +Elliott went away as he was ordered, sore and angry at Margaret, at +himself. He could not understand how she could so have misconceived +him. He felt almost disposed to let her go her own way and take her +own chances; and yet he felt that he must be always at her side to see +that she suffered nothing. He walked over to Broadway, inwardly +fuming, and stopped at a cable agency, where he sent another message +to Henninger: + +“Can’t wire clue. Am bringing it. Be ready at Delagoa.” + +He had considerable trepidation in calling for Margaret the next +morning, but he found her cold and calm. Her pallor had returned, and +she looked as if she had not slept. + +“Are you still determined to go?” he asked. + +“Certainly.” + +“It’s time to go, then. The ship sails at noon. There’s a cab +down-stairs for you.” + +Her valise was already packed and strapped; so was her small steamer +trunk, and she had nothing to do but put on her hat. She had been +expecting him, and in half an hour they were on board the great liner, +and had been shown their staterooms. Bennett was waiting for them at +the wharf, and the big ship swung majestically from her moorings and +moved down the bay, past the rugged sierra skyline of brick and +granite that had stimulated Elliott’s fancy when he last sailed from +this port on the apparently endless trail of gold. + +During the first half of the voyage he did not find Margaret +conversational; she appeared to endure his presence with bare +patience. She had plenty of other society on board, but neither did +she seem to care much for the men who tried to scrape acquaintance +with her with the relaxed etiquette of travel. She appeared to take a +fancy for Bennett, however, and spent hours in long talks with him +when she was not reading or gazing meditatively from her deck-chair +across the dark, unstable sea. + +Elliott perceived that he had done wrong, but he did not see how to +remedy it. He had indeed been tactless and brutal; he had, or it +looked as if he had, tried to force himself upon her while she was +virtually his guest. Still, he thought that she might have +misunderstood him less violently; and, while he admitted that he had +been served rightfully, he felt aggrieved that he had not been served +more mercifully. However, since she appeared to have no taste for his +conversation, he was prepared, for the present, to dispose of it +elsewhere. + +But she called him to her that afternoon on deck, and pointed to an +unoccupied chair beside her own. He sat down and looked at her with an +expression that he tried to make severe, but which failed in the face +of her smile. + +“Don’t you think it’s very absurd for fellow passengers not to be +friends?” she asked. + +“Very,” he replied, a little stiffly. + +“Come, you see I’m making the advances. You were rude and unkind to +me, and you haven’t apologized as you should. Are you sorry?” + +“In one way—yes.” + +She made a little face. “That’s not good enough. But I’ll let you off. +I’ll forget what you said, on condition that you make no more +objection to my going where I please. Is it a bargain?” + +“I suppose so—for my objections have no effect anyway.” + +“Not a bit. They only spoil everything. Don’t you understand,” she +went on, earnestly, “that I had to do this? If I had stayed at home, +or wherever I tried to make a home, I would have died; I would have +gone mad with loneliness and trouble. You don’t know what I have +suffered. Perhaps you think I am forgetting it, but it follows me +night and day. I daren’t think of it, or speak of it. I have to do +something—anything. Don’t you understand?” + +“Perhaps not altogether. But you shall go where you like, without let +or hindrance,” said Elliott, gravely. + +“We’re friends again, then?” + +“I think so.” + +“Ah, but you must be sure,” she insisted. + +“Well, then, I am sure,” he said, laughingly; though in his heart he +felt no such certainty. But he saw clearly that friendship would have +to do till the treasure-hunt were finished. On that expedition they +were comrades and fellow adventurers, and nothing more. + +During the remainder of the passage he therefore endeavoured to return +as far as possible to the easy spirit of the Hongkong days, though +Hongkong was a place of which neither cared to speak. Margaret +appeared to welcome this regained camaraderie, and her spirits seemed +to grow brighter than at her landing in America. They talked of many +things, but they avoided the subject of the treasure-ship; that was +dangerous to touch; it was too near their hearts. Yet in the intervals +of silence there was an image upon Elliott’s inward eye, an image that +came to be almost permanent, of another steamer, this one ploughing +through the heated blue of the Indian Ocean, and of two men leaning +over her bow, with their faces and thoughts running forward to the +same spot as his own. The same sort of vision must have presented +itself to Margaret, for she once, though only once, exclaimed: + +“Do you think we’ll be in time?” + +“I don’t know. It would have been safer if you had let us cable the +directions. For the last couple of weeks, I’ve somehow felt that the +game was up,” responded Elliott. + +“It’s not!” she cried. “I know it. We will be in time. We must.” + +“Well, we’re doing all we can,” said Elliott. “We’re due to reach +Southampton to-morrow at ten in the forenoon, and the Cape Town +steamer sails the next day at noon. We’re cutting it pretty fine.” + +The _St. Paul_ arrived punctually at her dock, and her passengers +scattered, most of them taking the steamer special train for London. +Elliott saw Margaret established in a comfortable hotel for the day +and night, and went down to the steamer offices with Bennett to see if +by chance there was any telegram. There was one, and Elliott ripped it +open: + + “For God’s sake,” it read, “wire clue immediately. Other + party at Zanzibar. Can’t wait. + + “Henninger.” + +Bennett read the message, and whistled low. The two men looked at each +other. + +“Can’t you persuade her to tell us?” Bennett asked. + +“No. She’s determined to go.” + +“Well, she’ll make us lose the whole thing.” He reflected a moment. +“We’ll have to take it from her.” + +“I told you what I would do if you tried that,” said Elliott, in an +even voice. “I’ll do it; you can count on me. I’m just as keen on +getting that stuff as you are, but by fair play. After all, Sevier and +Carlton can’t be so much ahead of us, and they don’t know where to +look.” + +“I expect I’m as quick as you are, if it came to shooting,” said +Bennett. “But a row would spoil everything, bring in the police and +all sorts of nastiness. But look there—that’s what I’ve been looking +at.” He indicated a large placard bearing the sailing dates of the +ships of the Union Castle Line for South Africa. “Didn’t you say that +our ship sailed Tuesday noon? That card says Monday noon, and that’s +to-day, and it’s eleven-forty now.” + +“By Jove, that’s so!” said Elliott, looking hard at the card. “The +agent in New York certainly said Tuesday. Here,” he called to a clerk. +“Is that sailing list right? Does the _Avon Castle_ sail to-day?” + +“Sails at noon sharp, sir,” the clerk assured him. + +Elliott exploded an ejaculation and shot out of the office. Luckily +there was a cab within a few yards; luckily again, it was a +four-wheeler. + +“Hotel Surry, quick as you know how!” shouted Bennett, and the driver +whipped up his horses. There was just eighteen minutes, and to miss +the steamer would entail a delay of three or four days, when every +hour was worth red gold. + +“Won’t you hear reason?” said Bennett. “Won’t you help me to make her +give up that map? Everything may depend on this minute.” + +“No, I won’t,” countered Elliott, flatly. + +“You’re as bad as she is. If I had Henninger here, we’d coerce you; +and by Jove, you’d better think what you’ll say to the boys when they +hear that you’ve queered the whole game.” + +“I’ll take the blame,” said Elliott; though in his heart he disliked +the situation almost as much as his companion did. + +Fortunately Margaret had not yet unpacked anything, and Elliott +brought her down the stairs with a rush, and hurried her into the cab. +It was only a few hundred yards to the dock, but as they neared it +they heard the gruff warning whistle of the liner. + +“Oh, is it too late?” gasped Margaret, who was very pale. + +The gangplank was being cleared as the party rushed down the platform; +the plank was drawn ashore almost before they had reached the deck. +There was another hoarse blast from the great whistle; a shout of “All +clear aft!” and then the space between the wharf and the ship’s side +began to widen. + +“Safe!” said Bennett. “It’s an omen.” + +But Elliott pulled the crumpled telegram from his pocket where he had +crammed it, and showed it to Margaret. + +“I don’t care,” said she, still breathing hard from the race. “We will +be there before them. I feel it.” + +“Heaven send you’re right. You’re taking a big responsibility,” +replied Elliott, gravely. + +“That reminds me that we didn’t have time to answer that cable,” +Bennett put in. “Never mind. Henninger will be wild, but we had +nothing to say.” + +It is a long way from Southampton to Cape Town, even when one is not +in a hurry. But when life and death, or money, which in modern life is +the same thing, hangs upon the ship’s speed, the length of the passage +is doubled and tripled, for the ordinary pastimes of sea life become +impossible. Shuffleboard is frivolous; books are impertinent, and +there is no interest in passing ships or monsters of the deep. The +three adventurers hung together, talking little, but mutely sharing +the strain of uncertainty. Late one night in the second week, Elliott +suddenly proposed poker to Bennett. + +“Big stakes,” he said, “payable from our profits later? It’ll kill the +cursed time.” + +But Bennett shook his head. “I’ve just sense enough left to keep away +from gambling now. If we started we wouldn’t stop till we’d won or +lost every cent we’ll ever have.” + +Elliott acquiesced moodily. The strain was wearing on his nerves, and +he went out of the smoking-room and walked along the deserted deck. It +was a brilliant blue night; the stars overhead blazed like torches, +and the dark line of the foremast plunged through the Southern Cross +as the bows rose and fell. The steamer shook with the pulsations of +the screws, and the water foamed and thundered back upon her sides, +but to Elliott she seemed barely to crawl. It occurred to him that the +treasure must be then almost directly east of him, on the other side +of Africa. + +The _Avon Castle_ ran into a gale off Cape Frio which kept most of the +passengers below decks for a day or two. Thence the weather was fresh +to the latitude of the Cape, where it became equinoctially blustering. +It was not sufficiently rough to affect the speed materially, however, +and at last the cloud swathed head of Table Mountain loomed in sight +above the long-desired harbour. It seemed as if the long trail was +almost done, for success or failure. + +Cape Town was swarming with uniforms and campaign khaki, and animated +with just renewed peace and the business of peace, but they stayed +there only six hours before they caught the boat for Durban. + +Here was a check. There was no railroad to Lorenzo Marques, unless +they took the long détour through Pretoria, over a line choked with +military service, and there was no regular steamer plying. After the +two men had spent a fevered day of searching the harbour, however, +Bennett discovered a decayed freighter which would sail the next day, +and he promptly engaged three passages at an exorbitant figure. + +Then there was a day to wait, and two days more at sea, and these +proved the most trying days of all. It was so near the goal,—a goal +which, perhaps, they would never reach! The sun blazed down hotly on +the unshaded decks as the rusty steamer wallowed along at the speed of +a horse-car, while they all three leaned over the bows, watching for +the first glimpse of the Portuguese harbour. + +They reached it just before sunset. A white British gunboat was lying +in the English River, and there was little shipping in the bay except +native craft. A flock of shore-boats swarmed about the steamer as she +dropped anchor, the customs launch having already come aboard. + +“See that! By thunder, that’s Henninger!” cried Bennett, pointing to a +good-sized and very dirty Arab dhow lying some fifteen fathoms away. +She was the nearest craft in the harbour, and there were a dozen or +more men moving about her decks. Standing in the stern with a glass to +his eye, which was turned on the steamer, was a white man who looked +familiar to Elliott as well. + +“I believe you’re right. That’ll be his ship. Yes, I caught a flash of +eye-glasses on another fellow—that’ll be Sullivan,” exclaimed Elliott, +excitedly, and Bennett sent a long hail over the water. + +“Ahoy! The dhow! Hen-ning-er! How-oop!” + +The man with the glass waved his hat, and two other men hurried up to +the dhow’s stern. + +“Come along. Let’s go aboard her now,” Bennett exclaimed, on fire with +impatience. + +Elliott looked sharply at Margaret. She was flushed with excitement, +as he could see in the quick tropic twilight, and her lips were set in +a determined line. Her baggage was hurried on deck and sent down into +a shore-boat at the end of a line, and in another minute they were +being ferried to the dhow. + + + + + CHAPTER XVI. THE END OF THE TRAIL + + +“Elliott! Thank heaven!—is that you at last?” exclaimed Henninger, +hurrying up to the rail as the boat hooked on the dhow’s side. “Why in +the name of everything didn’t you cable as I told you?” + +Henninger’s voice had the same imperious ring, though he was dressed +in a very dirty flannel shirt and a pair of duck trousers that had +long ago been white, supported by a leather belt. His sleeves were +rolled up to the elbows, and arms and face were burned to a deep +reddish brown. Hawke and Sullivan were dressed as unconventionally as +the chief in costumes to which Sullivan’s gold eye-glasses and urban +countenance lent the last touch of eccentricity. In the bow was a +cluster of half-nude Arabs. + +“I didn’t cable because I couldn’t,” Elliott replied. “I don’t know +myself where the spot is.” + +“What did you mean, then, by saying you had found it? How are you, +Bennett?—glad to see you! What—who’s this?” as his eye fell upon Miss +Margaret, who had just clambered over the rail. “We don’t want any +women aboard here.” + +“This is Miss Margaret Laurie, Henninger,” explained Elliott. “She +knows where the place is. She has a map of it, and she’s going with us +to show us.” + +Henninger bowed in acknowledgment of the introduction. + +“No, she’s not going with us,” he said, decisively. “This is no +picnic—no place for women. I’ll have to ask you to give us that map, +Miss Laurie, at once. We have to sail immediately. We’ve been waiting +here, on the raw edge, for over a week.” + +“I shall not give you the map,” Margaret returned, firmly. “I am going +to sail with you.” + +“Then I’m sorry, but I’ll have to take it,” said Henninger, and +stepped quickly forward. + +“None of that, Henninger,” exclaimed Elliott, but before he could +interfere further, the girl had whipped a black, serviceable revolver +from the dress, the same weapon which Elliott had seen her use in +Lincoln. + +“Stop,” she said, directing its muzzle at Henninger’s chest. “I’ll +show you my map when we’re out of sight of land.” + +Henninger stopped short, looked at her queerly, and finally broke into +a small, amused chuckle. + +“Put away your little gun, Miss Laurie,” he said. “I fancy I made a +mistake. I reckon you can come with us if you want to, if the other +boys don’t object. Oh, come, don’t break down, after that gun-play.” + +“I’m not—not breaking down,” said Margaret, faintly, but still firmly. +“But I think I’d like to sit down.” + +Henninger handed her an empty keg, which seemed to be the nearest +thing to a chair on board, and she collapsed. The twilight had +deepened to almost total darkness. + +“Bring a lantern aft, you!” shouted Henninger, and one of the men in +the bow made a light and brought it to the stern. His brown Arab face +shone in the circle of illumination, an aquiline, predatory profile, +and his eyes flashed upon the group of white men around the girl. + +Sullivan brought her a tin cup of tepid water into which he poured a +little whiskey, and she drank it with a wry face. She glanced around +at the circle of roughly dressed men, at the litter of miscellaneous +articles that encumbered the deck of the rough native boat, and +shuddered. A moist, unhealthy smell came off shore, there was a sound +of loud and violent altercation in Dutch from the deck of a +neighbouring barque, and a couple of pistol-shots cracked from +somewhere along the wharves. + +Elliott moved closer to her and laid his hand upon her arm. + +“I didn’t know it would be like this,” she murmured. + +“Don’t be frightened,” said Elliott. “There’s no one here to be afraid +of. But don’t you think you had better go ashore, after all? The +American consul will make you comfortable till we get back, you know.” + +“No—anything rather than that city! I’m not afraid, only tired out. +I’ve come all the way from China,” she said to Henninger, “almost +without stopping, and here I thought I’d be among friends.” + +“So you are,” the Englishman assured her. “Only just look at this +boat. We’ve got no accommodation for ladies. You’ll just have to rough +it like the rest of us. And there’s some danger; there may be a fight +before we’re through. And our own crew would cut our throats if we +didn’t keep them cowed. I still think you’d better go ashore and stay +there. But if you are willing to take your chances, you’re welcome.” + +“I’ll take the risks, of course, and I don’t want any favours because +I’m a girl. I’ll just be one of your party. When can we get started?” + +“The tide’s on the ebb now, and everything is shipped,” Hawke +remarked. + +“Yes, no use waiting,” said Henninger. “I’ll speak to the reis. +Halloo, Abdullah! Come aft a moment.” + +“Who’s the reis?” Bennett inquired. + +“He’s the captain, that is, the sailing-master under our orders,” +Sullivan explained. “You see, none of us knew anything about +navigation. He’s a fine old fellow, on the dead square, and hand and +glove with us. We’re paying him a small fortune for the run, and he’s +the only man aboard, except ourselves, who knows anything of what +we’re after.” + +The reis came aft deliberately, a finely athletic Arab past middle +age, with an aristocratic coffee-coloured face and a short grizzled +beard. He was dressed in spotless white, and wore a short sword and +dagger in his sash. Henninger conferred aside with him for a few +minutes. + +“All right,” said the Englishman, returning. “The anchor will be up +directly and we’ll be off. High time, too. Meanwhile, I’d like to hear +what you’ve been doing, Elliott. I got your letter from Hongkong.” + +Elliott thereupon briefly narrated the surprising developments of the +past month. + +“I see. You were a bold woman to try to hold us up, Miss Laurie,” said +Henninger, grimly. “Other people have tried it, but not often twice.” + +“There’s a good chance that we’ll be in time, after all,” said +Sullivan. + +“Of course we will!” Margaret cried. “What’s that?” + +It was the rattle as the crew manned the windlass. The chain cable +came in grating harshly, and the dhow glided forward and swung round +as she was hove short. A couple of Arabs hauled around the big lateen +mainsail, and then came aft to perform the same office for the smaller +mizzen-sail, while the reis himself took the helm, which was a heavy +beam projecting fully ten feet inboard over the stern. The anchor was +broken out and came up ponderously against the bows. + +“We’re off!” exclaimed Hawke, boyishly. + +The dhow began to move slowly down the river under the ebb-tide, and +gradually gathered way in the slight breeze from the land,—the dark +land of Africa that gloomed behind them. The treasure hunt was really +begun. + +Upon the dhow’s after-deck no one spoke for several minutes. Every one +of the adventurers was doubtless busy with his own reflection, and +there was an impressive touch about this silent putting forth into the +darkness—a darkness not so deep as their own ignorance of the end of +that voyage. And every one felt instinctively that much would be lost +as well as won before that cargo should be raised that had cost the +lives of so many men already. + +A sudden recollection shook the spell of silence from Elliott. + +“That other party at Zanzibar—what about them?” he asked. + +“They got there over two weeks ago, just before I left,” Henninger +answered. “There were two men. They must have been your friends Sevier +and Carlton, by your description, and they were trying to hire some +sort of craft and crew. Ships happened luckily to be scarce at +Zanzibar just then, and they hadn’t made any headway when I came here +to superintend things. Sullivan had chartered this boat already, and I +picked up Hawke at Mozambique as I came down. They can’t have much the +start of us at the most.” + +“And what then?” demanded Bennett. + +“Why, we outfitted this dhow, and no joke it was. We were lucky in +picking up a full diving outfit. It’s badly battered, but we got it +cheap, and it’ll serve. We hired a Berber Arab with it, who used to +work on the sponge boats in the Levant and understands it. Then we had +to rig a rough derrick apparatus to hoist heavy weights aboard by +man-power. We had to get a crew, and provisions and arms—no end of +things. It was like stocking a shop. We finished the job five days +ago, and we’ve been waiting ever since for a message from you.” + +“We’d have murdered you if we could have caught you. We were about +ready to go off our heads,” Hawke supplemented. + +The dhow was clearing the river mouth, and the Arab skipper hauled her +course to the northward. The breeze was fresher outside, and she +rapidly increased her speed, rolling heavily under the seas, for she +was in light ballast. + +“We’ve arranged to take turns standing watches,” said Henninger. “One +of us must always be on guard till we get back. I’ll take the first +watch, from nine o’clock till midnight, and then Hawke and then +Sullivan, three hours apiece. Elliott and Bennett will take their +turns the next night, and this arrangement gives two men a full sleep +every night.” + +“I’ll take my turn,” interposed Margaret. + +“No,” said Henninger, in a tone that closed the question. “The rest of +us sleep on blankets spread on the deck because it’s so hot, Miss +Laurie, but you can have the cabin, or we’ll swing you a hammock +amidships. But you’d suffocate in the cabin, I’m afraid. You said you +didn’t want any favours, and we can’t give you any.” + +Margaret chose the hammock, which an Arab seaman was ordered to sling +for her. But no one turned in for two more hours; there was too much +excitement in the actual, long-delayed start. But the cool sea-wind +brought quiet, and excitement gave place at last to intense weariness. + +Elliott spread his blanket beside the rail only a couple of yards from +Margaret’s hammock. + +“If anything should frighten you in the night, just speak to me and +I’ll hear you instantly,” he remarked, as he lay down. + +“All right,” she replied; but he felt more than certain that whatever +the alarm, she would sooner have bitten off the end of her tongue than +have appealed to him for help. + +Elliott awoke several times during the night. The dhow was rushing +forward at, it seemed to him, tremendous speed, and he was spattered +occasionally by smart splashes of foam from over-side. Margaret’s +hammock was swaying heavily in the roll, but she appeared to be +asleep, and all was quiet on deck. At the stern he could see the white +figure of the steersman leaning hard against the tiller, and there was +a dark form beside the rail, undoubtedly one of his friends on the +watch. + +At last he awoke again with a start, to find it broad day. The dhow’s +decks were wet; there was a cloudy sky, and a fresh wet wind blowing +from the southeast. No land was anywhere in sight; the sea, gray as +iron, was covered with racing whitecaps. Looking at his watch, he +found that it was half-past five, and he arose and walked aft, feeling +a trifle cramped and stiff, to where Sullivan was lounging out the +last hour of his duty. Margaret still slept profoundly in her hammock. + +“What do you think of our clipper? I picked her out,” said Sullivan, +walking forward to meet him. + +Elliott was now able for the first time to get a clear view of the +craft upon which he had embarked. The dhow was about ninety feet long +and rather broad in the beam, with two masts stepped with an +extravagant rake forward, each bearing a great lateen sail. There was +a long, knifelike sheer to her cutwater, and a great overhang to her +stern, and she was decked completely over, with forward and aft +companion ladders leading below. + +“She seems to be able to sail,” replied Elliott, glancing at the +racing water alongside. + +“That’s no lie. The skipper says she can do fourteen knots with the +right kind of a wind. Her name’s the _Omeyyah_, or words to that +effect. She’d make a sensation in the New York Yacht Club, wouldn’t +she?” + +“What’s your crew like? Are they really the tough gang that Henninger +said?” + +“Oh, I fancy he was piling it on to frighten that girl. She’s dead +game, isn’t she? No, the men are all coast Arabs—pretty peaceable lot, +I reckon. You see, they’re all of the same tribe as the reis, and he’s +guaranteed good behaviour from them. Besides, we’re well armed. +There’s a big revolver apiece and a dozen Mauser rifles down below, +with a thousand cartridges. Second-hand military rifles can be bought +at bargain prices in Lorenzo Marques just now.” + +Henninger came aft at that moment, looked earnestly at sea and sky, +and drew a bucket of water from over the side for his ablutions. +Elliott and Sullivan followed his example; and when Margaret appeared +a few minutes later from behind the mizzen-sail, she, too, was served +with a bucket of salt water and a towel. + +“I’m going to braid my hair as I used when I was at school,” she +exclaimed, laughing, after an unsuccessful attempt to reduce the curls +to order. Her eyes shone; her cheeks glowed after the salt water, and +her voice had a gay ring. For the first time an unwilling conviction +began to invade Elliott that perhaps after all this expedition was +better for her than to remain in America, brooding and waiting. + +“We’ll have the cabin fixed up a little for you, with a wash-stand and +a bit of a mirror,” said Henninger. “You can sleep in that hammock, if +you like, but you’ll want some corner of your own. No one else will +want to go into the cabin; it’s too hot. We live on deck.” + +“What else do we live on?” demanded Elliott “Isn’t it nearly time for +breakfast?” + +“Not for half an hour. And while we’re waiting, perhaps Miss Laurie +will—” + +Margaret understood, and she silently produced from inside her blouse +the folded paper which Elliott had seen at San Francisco. + +“This is the map my father made,” she said, opening it and handing it +to the chief. + +Every one crowded round to look. It was a carefully drawn sketch map +of a portion of the Mozambique Channel and the Zanzibar coast, and +there was a small island marked with a cross and with its latitude and +longitude—S. 13, 25, 8, and E. 33, 39, 18. + +Henninger produced a large chart of the East Coast and compared the +two. “The place must be just a little south of Mohilla Island,” he +said. “It’s two or three hundred miles from Ibo Island, where they’ll +look first.” + +“How far from here?” asked Hawke, who had come aft while they were +talking. + +“I don’t know exactly where we are now, but I should think it must be +a good eight or nine hundred miles.” + +“Good heavens!” Bennett cried in dismay. + +“But then it’s five hundred miles or so from Zanzibar, and we may have +got started before them. We can run the distance in five or six days, +or maybe in less, if this wind holds,” looking up at the gray-streaked +southern sky. + +“It’ll hold,” said Hawke. “The reis told me last night that the +southeast wind blows all the time at this season. It’s a trade-wind, I +fancy.” + +“And I think,” remarked Henninger, “that there’s a strong current +setting north through the channel that will help us two or three knots +an hour.” + +This important bit of oceanography was indeed corroborated by the +chart, and it put the whole party in excellent spirits, not even to be +spoiled by the execrable breakfast that was presently brought on deck. +Ice, milk, or butter were impossibilities on the _Omeyyah_, and the +provisioning consisted chiefly of American canned goods which did not +require cooking, and of mutton and rice which the Moslem in the galley +did his usually successful best to spoil. Only in one thing was he an +artist; the superb coffee made amends for all the rest. + +All that day the log-line was kept running, and showed an average +speed of nearly eleven knots, with an increase toward evening as the +wind freshened. The adventurers lounged about the decks, with no books +to read, with nothing to do, but feeling an exhilaration from the +rapid movement of the small craft which a steamer could never give at +double the speed. Away to port the coast of Africa showed occasionally +as a bluish darkening of the sea-line, and faded again. Two or three +dhows like their own passed them beating down the channel, and once a +long smear of smoke on the sky indicated a steamer hull down under the +eastward horizon. + +The second day passed much like the first, but the sun set cloudily, +and it rained during the night. At daybreak the wind was much fresher, +and it strengthened during the forenoon, veering more to the east. At +noon the dhow was heeling over heavily, and an hour later the skipper +ordered a reef taken in the mainsail. The good wind continued to +smarten until by the middle of the afternoon it was difficult to +maintain footing on the sloping and slippery deck. The sky was a flat, +windy gray; the sea had not a tinge of blue, and was covered with +sweeping white-crested rollers, through which the _Omeyyah_ ploughed +nobly. Occasionally she took one over the bows with a bursting smash, +sending a drenching cascade over the decks clear to the stern. It took +two men to hold the kicking tiller-head, and the adventurers clung to +the rigging upon the windward side, disregarding a ducking that could +not be avoided, for it seemed that oilskins was the one item of +equipment that had been forgotten. + +“How fast are we going?” Margaret cried to Elliott, trying to keep her +wet hair out of her eyes. The rattle and creak of the straining +rigging and blocks almost drowned her voice. + +“Thirteen knots, last time the log was taken,” Elliott shouted back. + +She made a gesture of triumph; at that rate they would surely win. +Henninger came up unsteadily, holding to the rail, with his wet linen +clothes clinging to him like a bathing-suit. + +“The reis wants to run for shelter somewhere on the coast,” he +shouted. “He’s afraid we’re running right into a monsoon or +something.” + +“Tell him to go to the deuce!” cried Elliott. “This is just what we +want, and more of the same sort.” + +“That’s what I think,” said Henninger, and he retraced his difficult +way to the stern, where the Arab skipper himself stood beside the +helmsmen. Abdullah seemed to object to the recklessness of his +employer, and apparently a violent altercation ensued, but drowned at +a distance of ten feet by wind and water. It must have ended in the +submission of the reis, for the dhow continued to drive ahead, half +under water and half above it. + +Meals were only a pretence that day. The hatches had been battened +down, and no one left the deck, but Elliott brought a quantity of +biscuits and canned salmon from the galley, which every one ate where +he stood. It rained furiously that night, and with the rain the wind +seemed to moderate, in spite of the fears of the skipper. During the +next forenoon it remained intermittently fresh, but remained powerful +enough to drive the dhow at an average speed of ten knots all day. By +sunset, Henninger calculated that they must have run nearly nine +hundred miles, and should sight Mohilla Island the next day, supposing +they were neither too far east nor west. It had been impossible to +take an observation for the last two days, so that his estimate could +not be verified. + +It rained again early the next morning, but cleared brilliantly in an +hour or two, and the decks steamed. Sullivan, who had learned to take +an observation, brought up a second-hand sextant and a chronometer of +doubtful accuracy, and these instruments indicated at noon that the +expedition was about forty miles south-southwest of the desired point. +Allowing for errors, they should sight the wreck before sunset. + +The breeze had been gradually failing all day, but it had served its +purpose, and it would certainly last till dark. The course was hauled +more to the northwest, and Henninger himself ascended into the +main-rigging with a good glass, while the rest of the party clustered +at the bows. As the dhow glided easily over the shimmering sea, every +eye was strained, not so much in search of the island as for sail or +steam that would tell them that they had been anticipated at the +wreck. About three o’clock Sullivan disappeared from the deck, and +Elliott, who had occasion to go below, found him unpacking the rifles +and putting clips of cartridges into the magazines. + +“It’s time we were getting these things ready,” he remarked, with a +grimmer expression than Elliott had ever seen his imperturbable +countenance assume. + +“Do you think we’ll be in time?” Margaret asked him very anxiously, +when he returned to the deck. + +“I’m sure I don’t know any more than you do,” replied Elliott. + +“If we’re too late, or if the wreck isn’t there—I’ll never forgive +myself!” she breathed, desperately. + +“You begin to appreciate what you’ve done?” said Elliott, trying to +look at her sternly, but his glance softened; he wanted to comfort +her, to tell her that it didn’t matter after all whether they found +the treasure or not, since there was something better in life than +gold. For a moment it seemed to him that she almost expected it, but +before the moment was passed Henninger hailed the deck. + +“I think I’ve sighted it. There’s something, anyway.” + +Hawke burst out into a joyous whoop of excitement. “What direction?” +called Bennett. “Any other ship in sight?” + +“A little more to port.” + +The course was hauled a little more. “No sign of any other vessel +anywhere,” Henninger added, after carefully sweeping the horizon with +his binoculars. + +“Hurrah!” cried Margaret. “I knew we would win!” + +“We haven’t won yet. They may have come and gone,” Hawke interposed; +and at this reminder every one became nervously silent, gazing ahead. +After twenty minutes a whiter spot began to appear upon the blue +sea-line. + +As the island was gradually lifted, it appeared, as Bennett had +described it, to be a good-sized and absolutely barren patch of sand +and shingle. It seemed about half a mile long, and a couple of hundred +yards wide at the widest point, with a single eminence rising to a +height of perhaps a hundred feet near the eastward end. All around it +to windward a line of foam and spray marked the dangerous reefs, and a +cloud of sea-birds wheeled flashing in the sun overhead. But the gaze +of the adventurers was not fixed upon the island, but upon a great +heterogeneous mass that stood up among the breakers, white with the +droppings of the birds, but still showing the red of rusty iron, a +battered skeleton, having no longer any resemblance to a ship, but +nevertheless all that was left of the unlucky _Clara McClay_. + + + + + CHAPTER XVII. THE TREASURE + + +The gold-seekers gazed eagerly, and, as regards Elliott at least, with +strange emotions of excitement, at the ruins of the vessel they had +come so far to see, whose name had been familiar so long, but which +none but Bennett had ever seen. But it was not all of the +treasure-ship that lay staked upon the reef. She had evidently broken +in two, and the forward and larger portion had been swept into the +lagoon-like space beyond the rocks, where it could just be made out as +a shapeless bulge of iron scarce showing above the surface. In reply +to a question from Henninger, Bennett stated that the gold-chests had +been in the forehold, and must be, consequently, submerged. Even if +they had been in the after portion they must surely have been shaken +out of the wretched tangle of plates and rods that formed the relics +of that half of the vessel. + +The dhow was brought up cautiously, with the lead constantly going, +and in eight fathoms the reis gave the order to anchor by Henninger’s +direction. + +“We’ll find a better anchorage on the lee side of the island,” +remarked the chief, “but it’ll be dark in an hour and we’d better lie +here for the present” + +“Why, aren’t you going to look over the wreck right away?” demanded +Hawke, in surprise. + +“What’s the use? We can’t do anything to-night.” + +“Then I’ll row over there alone. Hanged if I can stay here all night +with maybe a fortune within a couple of hundred yards and not go to +see if it’s there,” said Hawke. + +This speech found an answer in the hearts of all, and Henninger, +outvoted, ordered the dhow’s small boat over the side. Margaret’s +desire to visit the wreck was overruled, and Sullivan preferred also +to remain behind, but the rest of the adventurers rowed themselves +toward the reef. + +The tide was rising and they were able to bring the boat alongside the +wreck, by careful steering. The fragment of the steamer was lying +almost upon her beam-ends, so that it was possible to grasp her rail +by standing up in the boat. The deck was too sharply inclined to stand +on it, however, and was besides deeply covered with the droppings of +sea-birds. The deck-houses were quite gone, great cracks yawned in the +deck-plates, the hatches and companionways were vast gaping holes, +while on the other side the deck seemed to have broken entirely clear +from the side plates. + +“No use in going aboard,” said Bennett, but Hawke scrambled on hands +and knees to the companionway hole, and the rest followed him through +the filth. The stairs were gone, but they slid easily to the deck +below, where, in the low light that entered freely through a score of +yawning gaps in her side, they viewed a scene of ruin even more +depressing than that upon the deck. Not a trace of man’s occupancy was +left. Everything wooden or movable had been swept out by the wind and +sea that had raged through and over the wreck, and they could hear the +water washing hollowly in the hold below. + +There was nothing to tell whether the ship had been visited before +them, and there seemed little possibility of settling this great +question that night “We might as well go back,” said Elliott, after +they had stared at the desolation for a few minutes. + +“No, I’m going to have a look into the hold before I sleep,” Hawke +insisted, and he began to clamber down the cavernous gulf that led to +the interior of the ship. + +Henninger, Elliott, and Bennett meanwhile went back to the deck and +perched precariously upon the broken rail while they waited for their +comrade’s return. Hawke was gone for a long time, however, and at last +a sudden outburst of wild shrieks arose from the bowels of the ship. + +“He must have got caught somewhere and can’t get back,” exclaimed +Elliott, and they returned below hurriedly. They had scarcely reached +the lower deck, however, when Hawke reappeared, dripping wet, with his +face distorted with some emotion. + +“It’s there! It’s there—tons of it!” he cried, and his voice broke on +the words. “Come along! I’ll show you!” + +They tumbled after him at the risk of breaking their necks, for the +iron plates hung in torn flaps, and the ladders were broken or gone. +But at last they peered down the hatch. The light was faint, coming +principally through the great fissures, but they could dimly make out +a heap of miscellaneous freight, cases and hogsheads and crated +machinery that had tumbled against the ship’s side when she heeled, +and now lay in several feet of water. Some of it had actually fallen +through the holes in the bottom that had enlarged with pounding on the +rocks, but the upper articles of the mass showed above water. Hawke +sprang recklessly down upon the pile, and splashed in to his knees. + +“Be careful. You’ll break a leg if you slip on those crates,” +Henninger warned him. + +But Hawke paid no attention. “This is it!” he shouted, his voice +resounding hollowly in the hold. He struck his hand upon a wooden box +about three feet in diameter. “It’s stencilled with that corned beef +mark, and it’s heavy as lead. You can’t stir it. See!” He strained at +the case, which refused to move. + +“Bennett, please row back to the dhow and bring an axe and a lantern,” +Henninger ordered, coolly. “We’ll see what’s in that box. And don’t +say anything to them aboard. We don’t want to raise their +expectations.” + +Bennett must have rowed at racing speed, though the fifteen minutes of +his absence seemed an hour to those who awaited him. All four men then +descended upon the pile of unsteady freight, where the lantern light +showed that the case in question was indeed marked with a stencil that +Bennett remembered. But this time the box might really contain corned +beef. + +The steel would show, and Hawke attacked the case with the axe. It was +strongly made and bound with iron, while its water-soaked condition +made it the more difficult to cut, but he presently succeeded in +wrenching off a couple of boards. The interior was stuffed with hay. + +Hawke thrust his arm into the wet packing, and burrowed furiously +about. Presently he withdrew it—and hesitated before he exposed his +discovery to the light of the lantern. He held an oblong block of +yellow metal. + +“God!” said Bennett. + +They all stared as if hypnotized by the small shining brick that shone +dully in the unsteady light. Then Bennett flung himself upon the case +and began to rip out the hay in armfuls, swearing savagely when it +resisted. + +“Here, stop that! Stop it, I say!” cried Henninger. “We don’t want +that case gutted—not now.” + +He put a powerful hand on Bennett’s shoulder, and dragged him back. +Bennett wheeled with a furious glare, that slowly cooled as it met +Henninger’s steady gaze. Elliott was reminded of the end of the +roulette game at Nashville. + +“We must leave it packed,” the chief continued. “We don’t want to go +back to the dhow with a lot of loose gold bricks for all the crew to +see. We’ll have to trans-ship the cases whole. Is this the only corned +beef box?” + +They found another heavy case bearing the same stencil and half-buried +among the freight under a foot of water. There were no more in sight, +though others might have been invisible among the débris. Apparently +only a small portion of the treasure had been shipped in the +after-hold, but the discovery of any of it proved conclusively that no +man had visited the wreck before them. As they rowed back to the dhow +they were strangely silent, and Elliott, feeling slightly dazed and +drunken, understood their taciturnity. + +“Congratulations, Miss Laurie,” said Henninger, as he climbed over the +rail. “You’ll be an heiress to-morrow.” + +“Was it there?” faltered Margaret; and Henninger handed her the golden +brick, after a cautious glance around the deck. She came near dropping +it when she took it in her hands. + +“How heavy it is!” she exclaimed. “How much is it worth?” + +“Two or three thousand dollars,” replied Henninger. + +Margaret gave a little gasp. “Here, take it.” She thrust it back to +Henninger. “I’m almost afraid of it. I never had so much money in my +life at once. I can’t imagine that it’s really true. I hoped, +but—please don’t look. I believe I’m going to cry!” + +She turned aside and did cry quietly for a couple of minutes, with her +head on the rail, while the men preserved an embarrassed silence. + +“I’m better now,” she said, wiping her eyes. “I’m ashamed to be so +silly, but it was the excitement, and the waiting, and the success, +and—everything. What are we going to do now?” + +“We can’t do anything more to-night,” returned Henninger. “We must +have light to locate the rest of the stuff, for it’s mostly in the +lagoon, you know. At least, we suppose so, for we only found two cases +on the wreck. Bennett says he counted twenty-three cases in the +forehold, and that will all have to be got by diving. We might get out +our diving apparatus to-night and rig the derrick.” + +There was not much sleep on the _Omeyyah_ that night. The diving +armour was brought up from the hold, cleaned and oiled, and the +air-tubes tested. They mounted the air-pump between decks with its big +driving-wheels, adjusted the manometer, coiled the life-line, and made +everything ready for the descent. The impromptu derrick was also set +up, consisting of a strong spar forty feet long hinged in an iron +socket at the foot of the mizzen-mast, with a block and tackle at the +extremity and a geared crank at the base. As it was not likely that +the cases of hay and gold would weigh over two or three hundred +pounds, this rude apparatus would be sufficient to hoist them aboard. +Henninger meanwhile cleared out the room that had been prepared below +for the reception of the treasure. This was a corner of the +after-cabin, partitioned off by three-inch planks, totally dark, and +entered only by a low and narrow door fastened with four heavy iron +bars, each locked into its socket with a Yale lock. The after part of +the dhow had been bulkheaded off from the forward portion with heavy +planks, so that no man could gain access to the cabin except by the +cabin ladder on the quarter-deck. + +These preparations were finished by two o’clock in the morning, +however, and there was nothing then to do but wait for daylight. A +cool air breathed on the sea, though scarce a breeze stirred; the +stars were white fire in the velvet sky, with the hill on the island +rising dark against them. The adventurers lounged about the deck, +talking in low tones, with their eyes ever fixed upon the indistinct +shape of the wreck that lay amid the wash on the surf. But weariness +brought sleep after all, and silence gradually fell upon the deck. + +Elliott was awakened from violent dreams by some one shaking him. He +opened his eyes to find daylight on the sea, though the sun had not +yet risen. + +“Get up,” said Hawke. “We’ve got to make a long day of it.” + +Elliott sprang up, broad awake instantly. The rest of the party were +already astir, and in a few minutes the cook brought them coffee, +canned salmon, corned beef, and biscuits. + +“The first thing is to try to locate the cases that are sunk,” said +Henninger, as they breakfasted hastily. “While we’re at it, we must +see if we can’t find a way to get the dhow into the lagoon. If we +can’t do that, we can’t fish up the chests bodily. We’d have to break +them and bring up the bricks one by one, and I’d rather take almost +any chances than that.” + +“But there must be plenty of water inside the reef,” Hawke remarked. +“The wreck’s sunk almost out of sight, and the dhow only draws four or +five feet, doesn’t she?” + +“That’s so,” said Henninger, gulping down his coffee. “We’ll try it. +And, above all things, don’t any of you say the word ‘gold’ above your +breaths. That’s a word that’s understood in all languages.” + +The meal did not last five minutes, and Henninger, Bennett, and +Elliott descended into the boat and pulled toward the line of reefs in +search of a gap into the lagoon. They rowed nearly half a mile, and +rounded the island to the west, in fact, before they found any opening +in the barrier. Here, however, they came upon a gap quite wide enough +to permit the passage of the dhow, and in the lagoon there was, as +Hawke had estimated, a depth of from one to three and in one spot of +five fathoms. + +They rowed eastward again toward the wreck. The sunken part of the +_Clara McClay_ lay in about twenty feet of water, and had been swept +round till it rested almost at right angles to the other half. It had, +like the stern, toppled abeam, so that the decks lay almost +perpendicular, and about three feet of the side rose above the water. +The funnel was broken off, as well as the masts, and on looking down +through the clear water it appeared that the engines had burst loose +and smashed through the side of the steamer. A medley of wheels, rods, +and cranks were visible, and the bottom was scattered thick with coal. +Otherwise, probably owing to the protection afforded by the water, +this portion of the steamer did not appear to have suffered so +severely as the after half. + +They rowed all around the sunken mass of iron that revealed nothing of +what it might contain. + +“There’s the hatch where I went down,” said Bennett. The hatch was +still closed, and was some eight feet under water. + +“Diving will be the only way to go down there again,” Elliott +remarked. + +“Yes,” said Henninger. “No use looking at it from here. Let’s get the +dhow up alongside.” + +They regained the dhow as the sun rose, and the reis got the _Omeyyah_ +under sail. There was just wind enough to move her, and the boat led +the way and conned her in, through the gap in the reef and across the +lagoon till alongside the rusty bones of the wreck. Here the anchor +dropped with a short cable to keep her from drifting, and as a further +precaution the boat carried a second cable with a kedge anchor, and +fixed it among the rocks of the reef. + +“Now,” said Henninger, when they had returned aboard, “where’s the +diving-suit? I’m going down.” + +“I thought you said you had an Arab expert for the diving,” said +Elliott, in surprise. + +“So we have, but I’m afraid to send him down till I’ve had a look +first. The gold cases may have burst, and you don’t know what sights +he’d see. I don’t trust this crew, so I’m going below myself this +time.” + +“By thunder, I wouldn’t crawl into that wreck in a rubber jacket, not +for a ship-load of gold,” said Bennett, earnestly. “We don’t know +whether the diving-machine works right. Better try it on the dog.” + +Henninger appeared struck by this consideration, but after a little +hesitation he persisted in his purpose. Hawke brought the suit on +deck, the rubber and canvas jacket, the weighted shoes and the copper +helmet, and Henninger accoutred himself under the directions of the +Berber expert. Before the helmet was screwed on, the air-pumps were +tested again, and appeared to be efficient. A couple of Arabs were +stationed in the waist to turn the big wheels that drove the pumps, +and Henninger’s head disappeared inside the helmet with its great +goggle eyes. + +He puffed out remarkably as the air was pumped into the suit, and +Elliott and Hawke assisted him to stagger along the deck, and over the +dhow’s rail. Thence he stepped down upon the uncovered part of the +steamer, and slid down the sloping deck till he was entirely +submerged. A string of bubbles began to arise. + +Every one on board, except the men at the pumps, lined the rail and +watched him eagerly. He checked himself at the hatch, looked up and +waved his hand. Then he attacked the hatch with a small axe, and after +a few minutes’ chopping and levering it gave way, and he wrenched the +cover off. It sunk slowly, being water-logged. There was a square, +black hole, and after peering into it for a few seconds Henninger +slipped inside and vanished. + +The life-line and the air-tube slowly paid out, and the bubbles +sparkled up intermittently from the hatch. Henninger remained in the +hold for about ten minutes, when his grotesque form emerged like a +strange sea-monster, and he crawled up the slanted deck again, and +came above the water. Sitting on the broken rail of the steamer, he +shouted to them, but his voice came inarticulately through the helmet, +and, seeing his failure, he gesticulated at the derrick. + +“He wants us to lower the grapples,” exclaimed Elliott. He ran to the +crank and touched it, looking at Henninger, and the helmet nodded +affirmatively. + +With the assistance of a couple of the crew, the beam was swung round +over the wreck, and the grappling-hooks lowered. Henninger caught them +as soon as they were within reach, and he descended once more into the +hold, carrying the irons with him. He was out of sight for a longer +period this time, but he reappeared at last, and clambered with +difficulty aboard the dhow. + +“Hoist away,” he said, as soon as the helmet was unscrewed. “I’ve got +one hooked.” His face was much flushed, and he rubbed his eyes +dizzily. + +“What did you find?” queried Hawke, with excitement. + +“All the freight is piled in a heap, higgledy-piggledy, and it’s +pretty dark down there. I made out the cases we want, though, or at +least some of them. I had forgotten that it’s so easy to lift weights +under water. I heaved those crates and hogsheads around like a dime +museum strong man. The irons are hooked on one of them. Let’s get it +up.” + +At the word the Arabs at the crank began to revolve the handles. The +long spar rose, and an iron-bound, wooden packing-case, about three +feet in diameter, appeared at the hatch, and swung dripping out of the +water. The dhow heeled slightly at its weight. + +“Inboard,” commanded Henninger, and the reis translated the order. The +beam was swung around till the case hung directly over the after +hatchway of the dhow, and, being lowered, it descended accurately out +of sight. + +Every one rushed down the ladder to look at it as it lay in the centre +of a widening pool on the planking, with the grapples still fast. But +there was nothing to see; the markings on the box had been almost +obliterated by water, though the false stencil could still be made +out. On the other side letters had been painted with a black brush, +presumably the forwarding directions, but nothing could be made of +them. Hawke went out and returned with an axe, but Henninger checked +him. + +“Why, aren’t you going to open it?” said Hawke, staring. + +“Better not. We know well enough what’s in it. We’ve got to hurry, +work day and night, and get away from here as quick as ever we can.” + +“Oh, confound it! We’ll have to open one of them, anyway. We may have +made a mistake. Aren’t we going to see any of the plunder?” exclaimed +Elliott and Hawke, and Margaret added her entreaty. + +“All right, go ahead,” Henninger gave in. “Open it carefully, though, +for we’ll want to close the box again. Sullivan, please keep an eye on +the hatch to see that nobody looks down.” + +Hawke released the grapples, and they dragged the case into the cabin, +where, with some difficulty, one of the boards of the cover was pried +off. A mass of wet, foul-smelling hay appeared below, and Hawke began +to drag this out upon the floor, where it made a great pool of +sea-water. + +The hay was packed very tightly, but in a few seconds Hawke +encountered something solid, and brought it to light. It was a dead +yellow brick of gold, exactly similar to the one already acquired. + +Hawke continued the disembowelling of the case until the floor was +swimming with water and heaped with sodden hay, and the pile of yellow +blocks grew upon the floor. At last the box was empty. + +“Twenty-five,” remarked Henninger, who had been counting them as they +came out. “We might as well weigh them. There are small scales in the +storeroom,”—which Elliott at once fetched. + +The scales, which were not strictly accurate, indicated the weight of +the first brick at a trifle under eight pounds, and the others all +gave the same result. Evidently they had been run in the same mould. + +“The latest quotation for pure gold, as I suppose this is, was +twenty-five dollars an ounce, or thereabouts. At that rate, how much +is each of these bricks worth? Remember, these scales weigh sixteen +ounces to the pound.” + +“Three thousand, two hundred dollars,” replied Hawke, after making the +calculation. “The whole case will total up—let me see—eighty thousand +dollars!” + +“I counted twenty-three cases in the forehold, and there are two at +least in the after-hold,” said Bennett. + +“Two millions,” said Hawke. + +“Two millions!” whispered Margaret, and at her awed tone Hawke burst +into a high-pitched roar of laughter. Bennett caught the contagion, +and then Elliott, and they laughed and laughed, a shrill nervous peal, +till they could not leave off. + +“Stop it!” shouted Henninger. + +“We’ll never have a chance to laugh like this again,” Hawke managed to +ejaculate, and there was a renewed outburst. + +“Brace up. You’re all hysterical!” said Henninger, sharply, and they +gradually regained self-control. “Come,” he continued, “we’ve got to +get the rest of that stuff aboard. Hawke, you and Miss Laurie will +repack that box again just as it was before. Make a memorandum of the +number of bricks in it, and, Miss Laurie, you will keep a tally of the +boxes as they come down.” + +This time, Elliott volunteered to go below, and he donned the +diving-dress, and lumbered over the side. It was easy enough to slide +down the steep slope of the steamer’s deck; in fact, he scarcely knew +when he became submerged, but it required a summoning of all his +courage to jump into the black gulf of the hold. + +He floated down through the water as lightly as a falling leaf, +however, and landed without a jar upon a miscellaneous mass of tumbled +freight. There was a faint green-gold light in the place, and at first +it was hard to distinguish anything, but as his eyes grew more +accustomed to the strange gloom he made out the articles of cargo +distinctly. There were boxes and cases of every size and shape, with +barrels and bales and shapeless things in crates—very much the same +heterogeneous mixture, in fact, as he had seen in the after-hold. + +The air began to buzz in his ears, and according to directions he +knocked his head against the valve in the back of the helmet and +released the pressure. The coolness penetrated through his armour; +and, but for the rubbery taste of the air he breathed, he found the +situation decidedly pleasant, for the depth was too slight to cause +any feeling of oppression. + +He examined the cases, bending his helmet close over them, for it was +not easy to make out their almost erased markings. He found that he +had been standing on one of the gold chests, and he hitched the +tackles to it, astonished to find that he could move its heavy weight +with considerable ease. He signalled through the life-line, and the +case was hoisted up, and disappeared out of his sight. + +By the time the grappling-hooks returned empty upon him he had found +another of the treasure-cases, which he at once sent aloft. He secured +four cases in this way, and sent them up in about twenty minutes; and +then, beginning to feel a slight nausea from the hot, rubber-flavoured +air, he climbed out and made his way aboard the dhow. + +Henninger took his place, and sent up two more cases, making seven +that were stored in the dhow’s cabin. The first one had already been +repacked, and Hawke and Bennett were busy stacking the chests in the +strong-room, lashing each one strongly to ring-bolts to prevent +shifting when the dhow rolled. They opened two more just enough to see +that there was certainly gold in each, and closed them again. The +heavy weight of the cases was evidence of the amount. + +All day long the work went on, under the full blaze of an equatorial +sun. The dhow’s decks ran with water from the dripping chests, and +down below the cabin was flooded, for the boxes were like sponges. +With the exception of Margaret, the adventurers were drenched to the +skin, and the work grew increasingly difficult when it became +necessary to shift the cargo about in the steamer to find the gold +cases. When at last it seemed that all had been taken out, the tally +showed only fifteen in the strong-room, while Bennett had counted +twenty-three in the hold. The missing ones would have to be +discovered, and Henninger went down again to search for them. + +“I wonder what the crew are thinking of all this,” Margaret remarked +to Elliott. He had paused at the entrance to the strong-room where she +was keeping tally in a note-book as the precious cases came aboard. + +“I don’t know what they think. I know what the reis told them,” +returned Elliott. “He told them that we’re wrecking the steamer and +taking out a lot of cases of cartridges for the sake of the brass and +lead. He knows all about it, of course, but the crew would never dream +of so much gold being in her.” + +Margaret shivered a little. “Things have gone almost too smoothly +since we sailed. I felt certain that we would get here in time, and I +was right. But now I feel, I hardly know how, as if something was +going wrong. I wish we could leave the rest of the gold and go away. +We have more than we need now.” + +“Oh, no,” Elliott expostulated. “And there are two more cases in the +after-hold, which won’t be easy to get out.” + +“I have been nearly happy,” she broke out, after a silence, “happier +than I ever expected to be again in my life. I feel almost ashamed of +it, after all that I suffered such a little while ago. I see now that +it was a dreadful thing for me to come on this expedition; I am +surprised that you let me do it. But everybody has been so nice to me. +If I had been the sister of all these men they couldn’t have treated +me with more respect and real kindness. Aren’t you almost glad I came, +after all?” + +“Yes,” said Elliott. He hesitated. “Do you know why I wanted all this +money?” he went on, bending toward her. “It wasn’t for myself.” + +“What, then?” said Margaret, faintly. “No, don’t tell me,” she +exclaimed, “not yet. Let’s be comrades the same as ever, and we +haven’t got the gold yet, anyway.” + +“Then I’ll tell you when we do get it,” Elliott answered; and at that +moment another case came down the hatch, and Bennett followed it, +breaking off the conversation. But the girl’s “not yet” left a glow of +excitement and exultation in Elliott’s heart for the rest of the day. + +Two more of the missing chests were located at last and sent up. A +fourth had been burst; it might have been the very one which Bennett +had opened while imprisoned in the hold, and the contents were +scattered. After some consultation, Elliott went down again and sent +the bricks up in a canvas sack, three at a time, packed in hay to +disguise the weight. By the time this was accomplished, it was near +sunset, and already growing too dark to see in the hold. Henninger +fumed impatiently, but without electric lights it was impossible to +work under water after sunset. Besides, the boxes in the after-hold +could not by any possibility be reached that night. + +Elliott struggled that night between sleepy exhaustion and excited +wakefulness, and the rest of the party were in a similar state. All +night long he could hear frequent movements; a dozen times he started +up anxiously at some sound, only to find that it was the armed guard +over the hatchway, but toward morning he slept heavily for a couple of +hours. + +Work was resumed as soon as a diver could see in the steamer’s hold. +After looking through all the mass of freight, and turning over much +of it with a lever, the missing cases were at last discovered, and one +by one hoisted aboard. + +“Now for the other half of the ship,” said Henninger, turning his eyes +toward the wreck on the reef. “I rather fancy we’ll have to dynamite a +hole in her side—good God!” + +They followed his pointing finger and stood stupefied. Off the +eastward end of the island a small steamer was lying, a faint haze of +smoke drifting from her funnel, and the red British ensign flying at +her peak. + + + + + CHAPTER XVIII. THE BATTLE ON THE LAGOON + + +“How did that ship get so close without our seeing her?” cried +Henninger, fiercely. “Who was on the lookout?” + +It appeared that every one aboard the dhow had been too deeply +interested in the salvage operations, and that nobody had been on the +lookout at all. The chief snatched up a glass and stared long at the +strange vessel, which lay absolutely motionless and perhaps a mile +away. + +“We’d better clear out. She’s a Britisher—as like as not a gunboat,” +Hawke muttered, nervously. + +“Clear out!” snorted Henninger. “She’d overtake us in an hour, with +her engines. She’s got no guns, that I can see. Ten to one it’s our +friends from Zanzibar.” He continued to gaze through the binoculars. + +“By Jove, she’s getting ready to lower a boat!” he exclaimed, after a +minute or two. “Sullivan, please bring up those rifles and open a case +of ammunition. Bring up a case of revolver cartridges, too. Elliott, +tell the skipper to get those anchors up, and bring her around.” + +The strange steamer was indeed lowering a boat which was full of men, +and as it left her side half a dozen dull flashes, as of blued steel, +glimmered in the sun. Sullivan darted below and came up with his arms +full of Mausers, which he stacked against the after-rail. The Arabs +were set to work at the capstan, and the forward anchor was broken +out, but the kedge attached to the reef was allowed to remain for the +present. Without it, the dhow would have drifted upon the island, for +the bright morning was turning cloudy, with a rising breeze from the +southeast. + +There was hurry and excitement upon her decks as she lay head to the +freshening weather, straining at her single cable. The Arabs were +clustered at the bow, talking violently among themselves, and +gesticulating at the mysterious steamer. Henninger watched them with +an air of suspicion, and proceeded to load his revolver, and put a +handful of cartridges in his pocket. Every one followed his example, +and Margaret produced her own pistol, which she had not shown since +the night of her coming aboard. + +“Oh, is there going to be a fight?” she breathed in a tremulous voice, +which her bright eyes attributed to excitement rather than to fright. + +“No. At least, I hope not,” said Henninger. “If there should be, +you’ll go below and stay there, Miss Laurie. You understand?” + +“Look,” she cried, in answer. “They’re waving a white flag.” + +The boat, which had almost reached the barrier reef, had stopped, and +a strip of white cloth was being flourished from her stern. + +“That settles it,” Elliott remarked. “It must be Carlton and Sevier’s +gang. They want to talk to us.” + +“We’ll talk to them, but they mustn’t come alongside us,” responded +Henninger. “We’ll go ashore to meet them. Elliott, will you come with +me? The rest of you had better stand by with the rifles while the +peace conference is going on.” + +Elliott and Henninger accordingly descended into the dhow’s +shore-boat, which swung by its painter, carrying no weapons but their +revolvers. Elliott took the oars, and while he rowed Henninger stood +up and flourished his handkerchief. The other boat resumed its course +at this signal, but was obliged to sheer westward for a quarter of a +mile to find an entrance through the ring of reefs. Elliott and +Henninger had been ashore for ten minutes when the steamer’s party +landed at a point a hundred yards eastward upon the beach. + +The strangers disembarked, nine of them, and seemed to consult +together for a few moments. Two were in Arab dress, but the rest +appeared to be white men of the lowest order, the white riffraff that +gathers in the East African ports, a genuinely piratical crew, and +every man carried his rifle. Finally, two men came forward with the +flag of truce. + +“That’s Sevier all right,” said Elliott, “and Carlton with him.” + +So it proved, and the Alabaman saluted them with a suave flourish, and +without any symptom of surprise. + +“Good mo’nin’, Elliott,” he said. “Ah, I always knew you knew where +this place was. We never ought to have let you go, but we were all +rattled that night, as you’ll remember. I hope you enjoyed your trip +to San Francisco?” + +“Very much, thanks,” said Elliott. “Have you been to Ibo Island?” + +“Yes, we’ve been at Ibo Island. Your slippery old sky-pilot played us +a neat trick on that deal. Only for that, we’d have been here two +weeks ago. Have you all fished up the stuff?” + +“Yes, we’ve got it all aboard,” said Elliott, forgetting the two cases +in the stern on the wreck. + +“But we’ve no time for chat,” Henninger broke in. “My name’s +Henninger, and I’m in a way the leader of this party. What do you want +with us, gentlemen?” + +“I think I met you once at Panama, Henninger,” said Carlton, as +gruffly as ever. + +“Very likely,” returned Henninger. “There are all sorts at Panama. +What do you want now?” + +“We want am even divvy of the stuff.” + +“We could take it all, you know,” put in Sevier, sweetly. + +“I think not. We won’t divide it,” Henninger answered, without +hesitation. + +“What’ll you offer, then?” + +This time Henninger reflected. “I suppose you know as well as we do +how much there is,” he said, slowly, at last. “If my partners agree to +it, I don’t mind offering you two cases, holding about seventy-five +thousand dollars apiece. That will recoup you for your expenses in +coming here.” + +“It won’t do,” said Carlton, firmly. “Is that your best bid?” + +“It’s our only one. Take it or leave it,” replied Henninger, with +great unconcern. + +“We’ve got twenty well-armed men—fellows hired to fight,” hinted +Sevier, “but we don’t want to start trouble.” + +“Your twenty men will certainly cut your throats on the way back, if +you have an ounce of gold,” Henninger remarked. + +“They might, if we hadn’t put the terror into them coming down. +Carlton shot one last week.” + +“You shouldn’t let them get so much out of hand as that. But if you +accept our offer we’ll expect you to put to sea as soon as you have +the stuff. In any case, we can’t allow you to land on the island. You +must keep your distance.” + +“Think it over,” urged Sevier. “We’ll take one-third, and let you go +away with the rest.” + +“No,” said Henninger. + +“Then we’ll take it all,” Carlton abruptly declared, and walked away. +Sevier remained for a moment, looking at Henninger with an expression +of regret, and then turned after his companion. + +“Quick! Into the boat!” hissed Henninger. + +As they pushed off they saw Sevier and Carlton running toward the +landing party, who had dropped out of sight behind the scattered rocks +on the shore. A confused yell of warning came over the lagoon from the +dhow, and, the next instant, half a dozen irregular rifle-shots +banged. Elliott ducked low over the oar-handles. His pith helmet +jumped from his head and fell into the boat with a round hole through +the top; there was a rapid tingling like that of telegraph wires in +the air. + +Instantly the Mausers upon the dhow began to rattle. Henninger ripped +out a curse, and opened an ineffectual fire with his revolver. But the +rifle shots from the dhow were straighter. As he tugged at the oars, +shaking with wrath and excitement, Elliott saw Sevier go down as he +ran, rolling over and over. He was up instantly, but there was a red +blotch on the shoulder of his white jacket, and in a few seconds more +he was under cover with the rest of his party. + +The boat tore through the water, against the wind and waves that were +rising upon the lagoon. The enemy had turned their fire principally +upon the dhow, but still the bullets seemed to Elliott to follow one +another in unbroken succession. He had never been under fire before, +and a wild confusion of thoughts rushed through his mind. The boat, he +thought, was making scarcely any headway, though Henninger had sat +down opposite him and was pushing with all his weight upon the oars. +The missiles zipped past or cut hissing into the water. Twice the +gunwale was perforated, and then, all at once, they were in the +shelter of the dhow’s hull. + +“What are you doing on deck, Miss Laurie? Go below at once,” cried +Henninger, angrily, as he climbed on board. + +The dhow’s company were lying flat on the deck and firing across the +rail, which offered concealment rather than shelter. The crew had +taken refuge in the forecastle, with the exception of the reis, who +had squatted imperturbably on the deck. Margaret was sitting on the +planking behind the mast, with her pistol in her lap. + +“I did go below,” she answered. “But a bullet came right in through +the side of the ship. It’s just as safe here. Wingate!” she exclaimed, +as Elliott came over the rail, “you’re not hurt, are you?” + +“No, of course not. Lie down on the deck,” said Elliott, irritably, +“and put that gun away. You’re liable to hurt some one.” He felt +unaccountably bad-tempered, nervous, excited, and scared. + +“If those fellows get on the top of the hill,” Henninger snapped, +“they’ll be able to keep us off the deck. We’d better—” + +“Can’t we let the dhow drift to the island and capture the whole +bunch?” suggested Bennett. + +“We’d certainly lose a couple of men in doing it,” said Henninger, +more collectedly. “I wouldn’t risk it. What are they doing on the +steamer, Hawke? You’ve got the glasses.” + +“They’re lowering another boat!” Hawke cried. “Four—six—seven men in +her,” he continued, peering through the binoculars. + +“By thunder, they’ll smother us out!” exclaimed Bennett, and the +adventurers looked at one another for a moment in silence. + +“That boat mustn’t land,” said Henninger. “Set your sights for five +hundred yards, and don’t fire until I give the word; then pump it in +as fast as you can. Be sure to hit the boat, if nothing else.” + +The second boat had left the steamer and was being rowed toward the +island at a racing pace, veering to the west, to make the same +landing-place as the other. Henninger, struck by a sudden thought, +turned to the skipper. + +“Abdullah, can any of your men shoot? Bring up three of the best of +them and give them rifles. Take one yourself. We must put that boat +out of business before she touches the shore.” + +The reis went below and brought up three Arabs, who grinned as they +received the rifles, evidently delighted at the honour. The boat was +drawing nearer, still pulling to the west, and the party ashore began +to fire more rapidly to cover the landing. + +“Never mind them,” said Henninger. “Aim at the boat. Now!” + +The six Mausers went off like a single shot, and the Arabs poured in +their fire a second later. There was instant confusion in the boat, +which was just passing through the reef; an oar went up in the air, +and a white streak showed on her bow. As fast as the rifles could be +discharged the dhow’s company fired, thrusting fresh clips into the +magazines when they were empty. The cartridge-cases rattled out upon +the deck, and the rank smelling gas from the smokeless powder drifted +back chokingly. + +“Allah! Allah!” screamed the excited Arabs, as they manipulated their +weapons, shooting wildly in the direction of the enemy. But the +bullets were coming fast from the shore. Elliott again heard strange +sharp sounds whispering past his face. A great splinter flew up from +the rail, and suddenly Sullivan stood up jerkily on the deck. + +“Lie down!” Henninger howled at him, and the adventurer collapsed. The +front of his shirt was covered with bright red blood. Elliott sprang +to his side, dropping his rifle. + +“Sullivan’s hit!” he shouted. + +“Never mind him!” roared Henninger. “Let him alone, you fool. Keep up +the fire.” + +The boat was floating crazily about, with oars dipping in +contradictory directions. Her crew were standing up or lying down, and +firing a few wild shots. + +“I’ll look after him. Go back to your place,” said Margaret, creeping +up beside the fallen man. + +“Get under cover yourself!” cried Elliott, furiously. “You can’t do +anything. Why aren’t you below?” + +But the concentrated, rapid fire had already done its work. The boat +had drifted upon a reef, perforated undoubtedly in a dozen places. She +capsized with a sudden lunge upon the rocks, and her crew went into +the water, where a few swimming heads presently reappeared. + +“Don’t fire at them,” said Henninger, grimly contemplating the +swimmers. “They can’t hurt us; they’ve lost their rifles. How’s +Sullivan?” + +Margaret turned up a pale, frightened face, with eyes that were full +of tears. “I—don’t know,” she faltered. + +Sullivan’s eyes were open, but his face was already pale, and he lay +perfectly motionless on the deck. Henninger ripped open his shirt, +wiped the blood from the wound in the chest, and felt his wrist. + +“Shot through the heart,” he said, laying the arm down very gently. No +one spoke; they all gazed silently at the whitening face. A bullet, +fired from the island, ripped through the sail and plunged viciously +into the bulwark. + +“Elliott, you and Bennett carry him below,” commanded Henninger, +harshly. “No time for mourning now. Miss Laurie, you go below and stay +there. Don’t bunch together like that, the rest of you. We can’t +afford to lose any more men.” + +But for a few minutes the men ashore ceased their fire. When Elliott +came on deck again the smoke had blown clear. The steamer lay immobile +in the offing, heaving upon the roughening sea, and the wrecked boat +was bobbing up and down in the surf, bottom upward. There were no +signs of the fight but the scattered cartridge-cases on the deck, a +few splintered holes in the woodwork and a red smear on the planking. + +Henninger took the glass and carefully scrutinized the steamer, and +then turned his gaze upon the island. + +“I don’t know what they’re up to,” he said, with dissatisfaction. “I +can’t see a hair of them. Either they’re lying mighty close, or else +they’ve slipped around the hill and are climbing to the top. I can see +another boat on the steamer, but I don’t think it’ll try to come +ashore—not till dark, anyway.” + +“But they’ve got nothing but some kind of sporting rifles, burning +black powder,” said Hawke. “Good rifles, but they haven’t near the +range of our Mausers. We could lie off and pepper them, if we could +get to sea.” + +“Yes, we must get out of this lagoon. It’s a regular trap,” said +Henninger. + +“And they’ve got no water on the island,” Bennett remarked. + +At this remark Elliott realized that his throat was parching. He +brought a bucket of water aft, and they all drank enormously. It was +very hot, though the sun was veiled in gray clouds and the sea was +rising under the rising southeast wind, the prevailing wind on the +east coast at that season. + +“There was a rainwater pool on the island when I was there,” Bennett +went on. “I found it very useful. But it may be dry now, and anyhow +it’s at the other end of the island, and they can’t get to it.” + +“Hang it all, why can’t we put to sea and let the rest of the treasure +go?” ejaculated Elliott, sickening at the thought of what the gold had +already cost. + +“Because with that steamer they’d follow us, wear us out, and maybe +run us down,” said Henninger. “But we must get out of the lagoon and +have sea-room as soon as possible.” + +Thud! Something cut through the upper portion of the mizzen-sail and +plunged into the deck. Whiz-z-ip! Another missile hit the barrel of +Bennett’s rifle and glanced away, screaming harshly. Bennett dropped +the gun from his tingling fingers. A third bullet lodged in the mast, +and another ploughed a deep furrow in the rail, and glanced again. + +“Where did that come from?” yelled Hawke; and “Look!” shouted Elliott +at the same moment, pointing shoreward. + +The top of the hill upon the island was crowned with white smoke, and +as they looked three or four fresh puffs of vapour bloomed out and +blew down the wind, with a distant popping report. Zip! Thud! the +bullets sang down and plunged into the planking. + +“They’ve got to the hill. Scatter! Scatter! Lie down!” cried +Henninger, flinging himself flat on the deck. But on the hill not a +man was to be seen. The invaders had stowed themselves so snugly +behind the irregular boulders that not so much as a rifle muzzle +showed, and a plunging fire beat down upon the dhow’s exposed +after-deck. + +“Gee! this is hot!” exclaimed Hawke, as a bullet ploughed the deck not +six inches from his shoulder. + +“Too hot!” said Henninger. “We can’t stay up here.” He jumped up and +dived for the hatch, and the others followed him, crouching low. They +tumbled down the ladder almost in a heap, and found Margaret sitting +on a locker in the cabin beside the door of the strong-room. Six feet +away Sullivan’s body lay, a rigid outline, under a blanket. + +“We’re trapped sure enough!” exclaimed Hawke, breathing heavily. He +went to the stern port-light and looked out cautiously. The window +gave a view of the island, where the concealed marksmen had ceased to +fire, but the steamer could not be seen. + +“The tables are turned. They can starve us out now,” Hawke went on +nervously. + +“Surely not. We can get to sea, can’t we, Henninger?” said Elliott. + +“I don’t know,” replied Henninger, abstractedly. He was looking +through the port, and he finally thrust his head out to look at the +steamer. “Look out!” he cried, dodging inside again with agility. + +He had drawn another volley from the watchful rifles on the hill, but +the stern timbers of the dhow were thick enough to keep out the lead, +and no bullet entered the port. Two or three shots came crashing down +through the deck, splintering the under side of the planking, but +doing no further damage. + +“They’re determined to keep us smothered,” said Hawke. + +For perhaps fifteen minutes there was a lull, and then a man stood up +on the hill waving a white streamer, and began to descend. He reached +the shore, boarded the boat, and began to row out with some +difficulty, but apparent fearlessness. He was easily recognizable +through the glass, and when he was within a hundred yards Henninger +hailed him. + +“Don’t come any nearer, Carlton. What do you want?” + +“We’ll give you one-third and let you go,” shouted Carlton, standing +up in the plunging boat. + +“You’ll get all of it, or none,” answered Henninger, and without +another word Carlton rowed himself back to shore. + +“Serve him right to take a shot at him,” muttered Hawke, handling his +rifle. + +“No, don’t do that,” said Elliott. “Let’s fight fair, if we are in a +close corner.” + +But the fighting was delayed. For hours deep peace brooded over the +island, while the whitecaps grew, crashing upon the reef, and the dhow +strained at her single cable. The steamer was invisible, owing to her +position, but she blew her whistle several times in a curious fashion, +to which answer was made by the wigwagging of a white cloth just +visible above the crest of the hill. + +“They’re plotting something. I wish I knew what it was,” Henninger +said, anxiously, searching the hill with the glass. + +“The reis thinks the cable won’t hold if the weather freshens much +more,” said Bennett, who had been conversing with the skipper. “If it +breaks we’ll drift on the island, and they’ll sure have us.” + +“Don’t borrow trouble,” said Elliott. + + + + + CHAPTER XIX. THE SECOND WRECK + + +But the kedge cable held nobly, while the long afternoon passed slowly +away, though its straining could be felt in every part of the vessel, +and it twanged and hummed taut as a violin string. There were no +provisions of any sort in the cabin, and, toward evening, Elliott +undertook to go forward along the deck to obtain something from the +galley. There had been no firing for hours, but the garrison of the +hilltop then demonstrated their vigilance. Before Elliott’s body was +out of the hatch the distant rifles were snapping, and so sharp a +fusilade was opened that he had to go back. Finally, Henninger cut a +hole in the bulkhead with an axe, through which food was passed by the +crew. The Mussulmans in the forecastle were quietly smoking or +sleeping away the hours, apparently totally unperturbed by the fight. +They had nothing to do; it was none of their affair, and they were in +safe cover. + +Late in the afternoon it had rained heavily for half an hour, and the +sun went down in a bank of clouds. It was perfectly dark in fifteen +minutes, and there was every prospect of a rough night. The surf +crashed upon the reef, sending showers of spray over the _Clara +McClay’s_ wreck, and occasionally deluging the dhow. The rigging +hummed and tingled like the cable, but the breeze appeared to be +shifting to the east, for the dhow was drifting to westward, and +across the gap in the barrier reef. + +In the safety of the darkness the whole party returned to the deck to +escape the stifling air of the cabin. The sky was clouded inky black, +and intermittent dashes of rain mingled with the spatter of the spray. +In the darkness to the eastward gleamed the red starboard light of the +steamer, with a white riding-light at her masthead. Complete darkness +covered the island and the hill; it was impossible to ascertain +whether the landing party were still there or whether they had +returned aboard their ship. + +Hawke fired an experimental shot at the island, but there was no +reply. The night seemed full of mystery and invisible danger, and it +was hot and oppressive, in spite of rain and wind. The dhow plunged +and quivered as she tugged at her restraining cable, that seemed as if +it must break at every lurch. But it held firmly for a whole anxious +hour, when a heavier downpour of rain sent the adventurers below again +for shelter. + +The possibility of getting to sea was debated, but it seemed too +dangerous an attempt in the face of the foul weather and the southeast +wind. But the enforced truce and suspense was more harassing to the +nerves than any actual conflict could have been. The lamp swinging +wildly from the ceiling lit up the cabin with a smoky yellow light; on +one side lay Sullivan’s corpse under the gray blanket, seeming, +Elliott fancied, to chill the room with its presence; on the other +side was the locked and iron-barred door to the gold for which the +adventurer had died. The rifles stood stacked in a corner, and the men +gathered near the port-hole for the sake of air, and discussed the +situation till their ideas were exhausted. After an hour or so, in +sheer nervous despair, Henninger and Bennett took to playing seven-up +on the floor, and Elliott presently took a hand in the game. He played +mechanically, paying no attention to the score, hardly knowing what he +did, and seeing the faces of the cards with eyes that scarcely +recognized them. Margaret sat on the locker and seemed to doze a +little; while Hawke prowled restlessly about, now looking over the +shoulders of the card-players, now peering through the port, and now +climbing half-way up the ladder to the deck. + +“It’s stopped raining,” he reported, after one of these ascents. +“Looks as if it might clear up.” A few minutes later he went up again. +They heard his feet on the planking overhead, and then a startled +shout. + +“The steamer!” + +Henninger dropped his cards, and dashed up the ladder, with Elliott +and Bennett at his heels. “What about the steamer?” he cried. + +“Where is she? What’s become of her?” + +That part of the night where the steamer’s lights had shone was blank. +Henninger whistled, and then swore. + +“She was there ten minutes ago,” Hawke protested. + +“Maybe the wind has blown out her lights. She can’t have cleared out, +can she?” said Elliott. + +“Cleared out? Not a bit of it,” said Henninger. “They’ve doused the +lights themselves. Can’t you see what they’re trying to do? Here, +Abdullah! Can we get to sea at once?” + +The reis glanced gravely at the darkness where the sea roared through +the gap in the reef, and then gravely back to his employer. + +“It is as Allah wills,” he said. “But it cannot be done by men.” + +“But Allah does will it!” cried Henninger, violently. “Call your men +up. We must be outside the lagoon in half an hour.” + +“Great heavens, Henninger! you aren’t going to try to take the dhow +out through the gap in this pitch-dark?” Bennett exclaimed. + +“Yes, I am. We’ve got to do it. Don’t you understand that the first +thing in the morning we’ll be riddled from both sides? Those fellows +are bringing up the steamer in the dark, to lie close off our +position. But I reckon we can do something in the dark, too.” + +“You’ll smash us, sure,” Elliott protested. + +“I know something about sailing, and I’ve seen the Arabs do neater +tricks than that at Zanzibar. We can do it. There’s a chance, anyhow, +and I’d rather see the gold sunk again than have to surrender it in +the morning. Confound it, reis, when are we going to start?” + +The Arab cast another gloomy glance at the reef, shrugged his +shoulders with racial fatalism, and went forward to call up the men. +Henninger dashed below, came up with an axe, and started toward the +bow. + +“Stop! You’re not going to cut that cable. Don’t you know that the +bight’ll fly up and kill you?” shouted Bennett, intercepting him. + +“That’s so. I forgot,” admitted Henninger, pausing. + +“But the whole scheme is mad—suicidal,” Bennett added, angrily. + +“No, let’s get away at any risk!” exclaimed Margaret, who had come on +deck. + +“Halloo, you must go below again,” said Elliott. “Or, wait a moment.” +He cut loose a life-belt and buckled it round her. “Perhaps you had +better stay on deck after all, for as like as not we’re going to the +bottom. Hang on to the dhow if we strike, and don’t let yourself get +carried against the rocks. I’ll look after you.” + +The Arab seamen were stationing themselves about the deck without a +protest of word or gesture against the dangerous manœuvre that was to +be attempted, and Elliott’s courage rose at the sight of their +coolness. The danger of the attempt lay almost wholly in the thick +darkness. The gap was nearly thirty yards wide, and the weather had +shifted so far to the east that the dhow could run out with a wind +abeam, provided that she could hit the gap. But there were no lights, +no steering guides, but the indistinct break in the whiteness of the +surf, and the vague difference in the tone of the breakers where the +reef interposed no barrier. + +The reis took the tiller, and a seaman went forward, picked up the axe +which Henninger had dropped, and scanned the cable narrowly. +Dextrously, carefully, he struck three light blows with the steel, +cutting it partly through, and skipped back out of danger. The dhow +heaved; a sensation of rending ran from the bows throughout her +timbers; and suddenly, with a bang like a gunshot, the cable parted, +and the dhow began to drift rapidly, stern first. + +The reis shouted in guttural Arabic, and sheet and tiller brought her +round. She began to run diagonally toward the island, heading almost +straight for the hill, with the wind abeam. In the bows a seaman cast +a short lead-line incessantly, calling the depth with a weird cry. The +sky was clearing slightly, as Hawke had said, and Henninger had +observed it with a worried expression. The dhow’s spread of white +canvas would be visible in the night where the black hull of the +steamer would remain unseen, and their only chance lay in making open +water and running below the horizon before they were sighted by the +speedier craft. + +After a short tack the dhow went about, and headed back as she had +come. The crucial moment was at hand. The reis stared ahead, stooping +slightly to get a clear view under the sails, though to Elliott’s eyes +the darkness was impenetrable. + +“Those Arabs can see in the dark like cats,” muttered Henninger, at +his elbow. + +The helmsman brought her up a little more into the wind, and shouted +another order. There was a rush of barefooted Moslems across the +heeling deck, and the dhow darted forward, straight for a roaring line +of invisible rocks. + +“What’s that?” called Bennett, sharply. + +Away in the darkness to the east Elliott too had seen a faint glow in +the air and a momentary puff of red sparks blown off and instantly +extinguished. It could be nothing but a flash from the funnel of the +steamer; she must be coming up, and at full speed. But in another +half-minute the dhow would be either in the open sea or at the bottom, +and he gripped the rail with a thrill of such intense excitement as he +had never known in his life. + +For a moment he thought they were going to the bottom. The reef +thundered right under the bows. He had no idea where the gap lay, and +he started instinctively to go to Margaret, bracing himself for the +shock of the smash. A deluge of spray roared over her prow; he +imagined he felt her keel actually scrape, and she came up a little +more into the wind. He caught a glimpse of the ghostly outline of the +rock-staked wreck, whitened with its filth—then there was a wild +plunge, a tumult of waters all round them, and then the shock of the +encounter with heavier breakers, the big rollers outside. Drenched, +dizzy, and half-blinded, Elliott became aware that the dhow was +running more freely to the southwest, and that the surf was booming on +the starboard bow. + +“We’re out!” yelled Henninger. “By Jove, I’ll give the reis an extra +thousand for this!” + +“Look there!” called Hawke, pointing astern. A gust of bright sparks, +such as Elliott had seen before, was driving down the wind, followed +by another, and another. There was a streak of faint glowing haze in +the gloom. + +“They’re after us. They’ve sighted our white canvas!” exclaimed +Henninger. + +“Maybe not. They may be only taking a position off the gap,” said +Elliott. + +No one replied to this suggestion. The adventurers strained their eyes +toward the intermittent flashes of sparks and illuminated smoke from +the still invisible steamer. She must be half a mile away, but the +sparks indicated that she was running at high speed, and she could +readily overhaul them, if indeed their escape had been detected. + +“She’s passed the gap. She’s after us!” said Henninger, after a couple +of anxious minutes. “Bring up the rifles. It’ll come to shooting +again.” + +There was a rush down the ladder to the cabin where the weapons had +been left. When they returned to the deck it was almost certain that +the steamer was really in pursuit. The gusts of flying sparks were +growing continuous; she was forcing her speed, and it seemed to +Elliott that he could almost distinguish her black, plunging hull, and +hear the vibration of her engines above the charge and crash of the +white-topped rollers. + +“Haul in as close to the reef as you can,” commanded Henninger to the +skipper. “We can sail in water where she daren’t go.” + +The leadsman was set to work again, and the dhow steered in close, +perilously close, to the white line of surf. She was rounding the +western end of the island now, running with a three-quarter wind, but +the steamer was cutting down her lead with great strides. The ships +were only a quarter of a mile apart; they were less than that; and now +Elliott could see the volumes of black smoke rolling furiously across +the clearing sky, and now he made out, vaguely but certainly, the dark +bulk of the pursuer. She was following them, running recklessly into +the shoaling water. The jumping throb of her screw beat across the +sea, but she remained dark as midnight, except for the showers of red +cinders flying from her draught. + +Suddenly a dozen lanterns blazed up on board the steamer. She was +scarcely two hundred yards astern, and she seemed to loom like a +mountain above the dhow. Two shadowy figures stood on her bridge, with +tense excitement in every line of the pose as they clutched the iron +railing. In the wheel-house the faint outline of another man showed, +grasping the spokes, illumined by the dim glow of the binnacle lamp. +They heard the crash of the seas on her iron side as she tore ahead; +and, startlingly, a brilliant light was flashed on the dhow from a +strong reflector, and a gigantic voice bellowed at them through a +megaphone. + +“Ahoy! Ahoy! the dhow!” it roared. “Henninger, Henninger, heave to +instantly, or, by God, we will run you down!” + +It was Carlton’s voice that shouted, and Henninger in answer heaved up +his Mauser. “Fire at the wheel-house!” he cried, and all of his party +caught the chance. “Crack! Cr-rack!” the rifles spluttered. Elliott +thought he heard a sharp cry. A couple of wild shots flashed in reply +from the towering deck. The blinding light went out, and in the glow +of the wheel-house Elliott saw the steersman fall, reeling aside, +still clinging to the spokes. + +The steamer sheered violently to starboard. A man leaped from the +bridge to the wheel, but it was too late; she was running too fast, +and was already too close to the reefs. A wild yell rang over the sea, +drowned by a mighty crash and rattle. The steamer had plunged, bows +on, sheer upon the rocks, and lay there under a shower of whitening +spray. + +Elliott had shouted, too, in uncontrollable excitement, but when he +realized the wreck he turned quickly to Henninger. “We must stand by +them,” he cried. “They may go to pieces.” + +The Englishman was leaning on the rail, and looking coolly at the +second victim of the reef. + +“Bring her round, Abdullah,” he ordered, at last. “We’ll see what kind +of a mess they’re in, anyhow.” + +The dhow went about, stood to the south, and came back on the other +tack to the island. The steamer was lying with her bows much higher +than her stern, but she did not seem to pound as she lay. Her steam +was blowing off shriekingly in white clouds in the dark, and a dozen +lanterns were flittering about her decks. + +“Hello—the steamer!” hailed Henninger. “Do you want any help?” + +The hurrying lanterns stood still for a moment, and presently Sevier’s +voice replied, angrily, “No!” + +But in a few seconds he cried again, “Stand by till daylight, will +you? We don’t know how badly she’s smashed.” + +“The worse the better,” Henninger commented. “We ought to run straight +for Cape Town, and let them fry in their own fix.” + +“Good gracious, you wouldn’t do that?” exclaimed Hawke, and Henninger +rather grudgingly assented. The dhow stood off and on all night, while +the sky cleared and the breeze died away toward the approach of dawn. +Daylight revealed the steamer lying with her nose pushed several feet +upon the rough barrier, and her stern afloat. + +“She seems to lie easy enough,” said Henninger, examining her through +the glasses. “I fancy she happened to hit a soft spot, and they’ll +very likely be able to float her off at high tide. It was almost low +water when she struck, wasn’t it?” + +Men were hurrying about her decks, looking over the side, and they +already had a boatswain’s chair slung almost to the surface of the +water, from which a man was examining the position of the bow. As the +dhow approached, a white signal was waved from the bridge, and the +megaphone roared hoarsely again. + +“We want to talk to you. Will you let me come aboard you?” + +“That’s Sevier,” said Elliott. + +“Yes, if you come alone,” Henninger shouted back, and in a few minutes +a boat was got overboard from the steamer, with a red-capped seaman at +the oars, and a man in white clothing in the stern. + +This was indeed Sevier, but scarcely recognizable as the smooth and +well-dressed Southerner as he climbed with difficulty over the dhow’s +rail. His white duck garments were torn, blackened, wet, and muddy. +His face was grimed with powder, unshaven, and reddened with the sun, +and his right arm had the sleeve cut from it and was suspended in +crimson-stained bandages. He had lost his characteristic suavity, and +he glanced savagely about as he stepped upon the deck. + +“This has been a bad business all round,” he said, as Henninger came +forward to meet him. “I’ve come to see what terms you’ll make.” + +“We won’t make any,” replied Henninger. + +“Then we’ll fight it out.” + +Henninger laughed rather harshly. “You can go back and begin as soon +as you like. You make me tired,” he added. “You’ve lost half your men, +you’re fast on the reef, you’re wounded, and yet you try to bluff us. +Don’t you know any better than that? Our weapons have twice the range +of yours. We could take your whole outfit if we thought it was worth +while, and maroon you here—and you want us to make terms to be allowed +to go away in peace. Fight it out, if it suits you. We’ll leave you +here to fight as long as you please.” + +“We’re not so bad as that,” said Sevier. “Our ship’ll float at the +next tide. And there are ten men aboard with rifles, and at this range +they’d clear off your decks in about ten seconds.” + +Henninger glanced quickly at the steamer. + +“Let them fire away then,” he said, tranquilly. + +Sevier turned to his boat, hesitated, and then came back. + +“Will you give us a share of the stuff? Say fifty thousand—twenty +thousand?” + +“Not a hundred. Not one cent.” + +“Look here!” cried Sevier, with sudden passion. “Don’t you drive a +desperate man too far. I won’t try to bluff you. Our men won’t fight +any more, I’ll admit; they’re a lot of dogs. And Carlton’s dead—” + +“Carlton killed?” exclaimed Henninger, taken by surprise. + +“He was shot last night on the bridge, just before she went ashore. He +died in an hour. It don’t matter; he was never more than a brute. But +we can float the steamer in a day or two and make Zanzibar easy, and +I’m ruined, clean, stony broke, and there isn’t anything that I’ll +stick at. I’ll inform the British resident there, and you’ll be +arrested at the first port you touch. You’ll find the Crown’ll claim +that gold pretty quick.” + +“You daren’t do it,” said Henninger, coolly. “You’ve got a record +yourself, and you’ve tried to commit piracy.” + +“I don’t care. For that matter, I can just as easy prove piracy +against you. I’ll see your crowd done up anyhow, and I’d as soon be +jailed as broke.” + +Henninger appeared to reflect, and took a turn up and down the deck. +“I’ll tell you,” he said, finally. “There are two chests of about +seventy or eighty thousand dollars apiece still in the after-hold of +the wreck. We’ve got all the rest, and they were the ones I meant to +give you when I made our first offer. We’ll leave them for you, after +all, and that’ll stake you again.” + +“I’d never get a cent of it,” answered Sevier, sullenly. “We’ve got a +rough crew aboard, and they’re out of all control.” + +“Then—we’ll give you one gold brick, just one. That’ll help you to +some sort of boat, and you can come back again for the rest.” + +“Will you express it to me at Cairo from the first port you touch?” +enquired Sevier, eagerly. + +“Yes, we’ll do that, too. But understand, this isn’t a share, nor yet +blackmail. It’s simply charity—it’s alms.” + +“Confound it, don’t bully him, Henninger,” muttered Elliott, as the +Alabaman flushed darkly. + +“Oh, I can stand it,” said Sevier, containing himself with an obvious +effort. “I’ll take the alms, and say thank you. I’ll look for it at +Cairo.” + +He bowed with an exaggerated flourish, purple with rage and +humiliation, and descended into his boat without another word. The +boat put back toward the steamer, but before it reached her the dhow +was a mile to the southward, on a wide tack toward her home port. + + + + + CHAPTER XX. THE RAINBOW ROAD + + +“What’s your plan for getting home with all this gold, Henninger?” +asked Elliott “I hardly dared to think of that till we’d got away from +the island.” + +It was almost eleven o’clock at night, and the moonlight broke +intermittently from a cloudy sky. The dhow was beating in long tacks +down the Mozambique Channel, with a fresh, warm wind blowing from the +southeast. Elliott was on guard duty at the after-hatch, sitting on an +inverted bucket with a Mauser across his knees; Henninger and Bennett +were lingering about the quarter-deck before turning in, and Hawke +stood sentinel over the door of the strong-room and talked up the +companionway. Day and night two men were always on duty over the +treasure; it had been so ever since the gold had come aboard, and the +system would not be relaxed while the voyage lasted. This would not be +much longer, however, for they were already six days from the latitude +of the battle and wreck, where Sullivan lay in deep water, with three +firebars sewn up in his canvas coffin. + +“We can’t sail this craft to England, let alone to America,” Bennett +remarked. + +In spite of success, a certain depression seemed to have settled upon +them all. Perhaps it was due to the oppressive heat; perhaps it was +the inevitable reaction from excitement and victory. In the faint rays +of the deck lantern Elliott could scarcely see his comrades’ faces, +but by daylight they looked ten years older. + +“This is the plan I had thought of,” replied Henninger, “though I +hardly dared to mention it, as you say, till we had really won out. +We’ll run into Durban and divide the gold on board. Some of it we will +deposit in the banks there; some we’ll deposit in Cape Town, a little +at a time, so as not to attract attention. We can express some of it +to New York, and one or two of us can sail for England on the +mail-steamer and take some of it along. The important thing is to +scatter it, and I think we can get off quite unnoticed, if we are +careful.” + +“Just how much did we make of it?” asked Hawke, from the bottom of the +companion-ladder. + +“One million, seven hundred thousand, and odd,” replied Henninger, in +an uninterested tone. “Nearly three hundred and fifty thousand apiece. +Of course, if we can find anything of any of Sullivan’s relatives +we’ll fix them up with his share.” + +“What are you going to do with your share of it?” Bennett inquired, +curiously. + +Henninger gave a short laugh. “How do I know? Blow it in, I suppose, +in some fool way, and go out looking for more. What I imagine I’m +going to do is to live on it for the rest of my life, but I know +myself better than that. It means an income of say fourteen thousand a +year, doesn’t it? I’ve seen that much put on the turn of a card.” + +“Don’t go and be a fool,” said Elliott “I’ve lived for most of my +years on about one-tenth of fourteen thousand.” + +“And I’ve lived for months on nothing at all. No, it’s no use handing +out nice, sensible motherly advice, for there’s only one kind of life +for me. I’ve got the fever in me, and I’ll be looking for the road to +the end of the rainbow as long as I live, I fancy. Do you remember our +conversation on the Atlantic liner, Elliott? I never said so much for +myself before or since, and I won’t do it now, thanks. Talk to Hawke +and Bennett; they haven’t been on the rainbow road so long.” + +“You said that night that you wanted to win this game so as to get out +of grafting,” Elliott retorted. + +“Well, so I do—only I know I won’t,” said Henninger. + +“Do you know what I’m going to do?” remarked Hawke. “You’ll laugh, but +I’m going to buy a half-interest in a big bee ranch in California. +It’s an ideal life. The bees do all the work, and all you have to do +is to lie in the shade and collect profits once in awhile. You can run +a fruit farm on the side, and there’s big money in it.” + +“That’s what I should like above all things,” said Margaret, who came +aft at that moment. + +“What will you do, Elliott?” queried Henninger, half-ironically. + +“I don’t know,” said Elliott, vaguely, glancing up at the girl, who +leaned against the rail, balancing herself easily as the dhow rolled. +“The first thing is to make sure of getting away with the stuff. +Henninger thinks we had better put in at Durban, Miss Laurie, and +divide the gold and scatter it as much as possible.” + +“What for? Will any one rob us?” asked Margaret, quickly. + +“Yes—the government police,” said Bennett. + +“But I thought—Haven’t we a right to the gold? Isn’t it ours?” + +“Heaven knows it ought to be, after all we’ve gone through,” remarked +Elliott. + +“But isn’t it?” Margaret insisted. + +“You’re not sophisticated enough, Miss Laurie,” said Henninger. +“There’s always a claimant for as much money as this. The gold seems +to have been stolen from the Transvaal government, and it’s certain +that the English government will claim it—if they hear that it’s been +recovered. But we don’t intend that they shall hear.” + +“Then this gold belongs to the English government?” + +“I thought you understood the situation. Legally, perhaps, it does, +but—” + +“Then I shall not take an atom of it,” said Margaret. + +“But you must!” exclaimed Elliott. “We’re injuring no one—” + +“I’m not a thief,” Margaret interrupted again, and walked forward. + +The adventurers looked at one another, disconcerted, and Hawke climbed +up the ladder to look with an alarmed countenance over the deck. + +“She’s got to take it,” said Bennett. + +“Yes, of course she must take her share,” agreed Henninger. “Gad, +she’s the pluckiest woman I ever saw. She’s been a regular brick all +through this thing.” + +“She’ll take it or not, as she pleases,” said Elliott, in an unusually +aggressive tone, and failing to grasp the humour of the situation. + +“Maybe you won’t take any of it yourself,” Hawke satirized. + +“There’ll be all the more for the rest of you if I don’t,” returned +Elliott. + +“The fact is, we’re all getting nervous and morbid,” Henninger +remarked. “A good sleep is the best antidote, and I’m going to turn +in.” + +Bennett also swathed himself in his blanket and sought a soft plank by +the lee rail, with the prospect of being rolled across the deck when +the dhow should go upon the other tack. Hawke retired out of sight +below, and Elliott was left to silence. + +Under the stiffly drawn sails he could see Margaret still leaning over +the bow. Behind him an Arab bore heavily upon the tiller-head, holding +her steady, and it occurred to Elliott that the man could stab him in +the back with the greatest ease. It would not be an unfitting +conclusion for the adventure that was stained with so much blood +already; and he imagined the sudden rising of the Moslem crew, the +brief melée, the flash of pistols and knives, the massacre on the +reeling deck. But he continued to sit on the keg, with his back to the +helmsman, and did not trouble to turn around. + +A yard beneath his feet were nearly two million dollars in hard gold; +the treasure that had spun so much intrigue and mystery over three +continents was in his power at last. But the price had been paid; +there had been blood enough spilled to redden every sovereign or louis +or double-eagle that might ever be minted from the metal. Elliott +fancied he heard the crash of the _Clara McClay_ on the reefs when all +but two of her company had perished. He remembered the revolver drawn +on the platform of the St. Louis train, and the bleeding figure of +Bennett beside the rails. He saw vividly the gambling-rooms; he saw +the missionary reeling back from the red knife; he saw Sullivan with +the widening scarlet stain on his breast, and he heard again the +fierce hail from Sevier’s steamer, and heard the crash as she rammed +the rocks where the _Clara McClay_ had perished months before. And, as +he brooded there in the dark, there arose in him a loathing and a +horror of the gold that had worked like a potent poison in the heart +of every man who had known of it. + +In the whole adventure there was but one period that had left no +bitter taste. He remembered the interlude from the treasure hunt at +Hongkong, and the bungalow on the Peak, where for a month there was +neither the bewilderment of tangled mysteries nor the feverish +excitement of greed. The heat, the rain, the miseries that had +tortured him, he had already forgotten, or he remembered them only +dimly as the discomforts that emphasized more keenly the graceful and +domestic charm of such a home as he had never known before. + +The Arab steersman droned softly to himself as he leaned on the +creaking tiller behind. Margaret had not yet gone to her hammock. He +could see her still at the bow, looking forward over the sweeping seas +in the cloudy moonlight. She thought him a thief; she had as good as +said so; and he watched her, feeling strangely as if everything +depended upon her staying there till he was released from duty. + +Bennett came up at midnight to relieve him, and Elliott went forward +at once. But he could think of nothing in the manner of what he wanted +to say, and after a few commonplaces he fell silent, and they leaned +over the prow together, listening to the sucking gurgle and the +hissing crash as the cutwater split the seas. + +“I want you to see clearly just why I insisted on coming with you,” +said Margaret, breaking the silence at last. “I didn’t understand it +at all, then. My father had spoken of recovering this gold—he couldn’t +have known that it was government money—and I supposed that it was +right to do it. In fact, I felt almost as if he had left it to me. +Then I had no money—nothing. I knew that I was dependent on you for +everything. It was even your money that brought me from China; I know +it was, though the consul said he advanced it to me. It nearly +maddened me with shame, and—I didn’t know what to do. Only I knew that +I couldn’t take anything more from you. I thought I had a right to a +share of this gold, but I couldn’t even let you go and do the work for +me. I had to help, and do my part—and so I did it. + +“But now it’s all over. I understand it all as I didn’t before, and +you see that I can’t take a cent of this money. I should feel myself a +criminal as long as I lived. But I don’t blame you for taking it, if +you feel that you can.” + +“I’m not going to take any of it, either,” Elliott interrupted. + +She was silent for nearly a minute, and then said, in a curious, +almost harsh, voice, “Why not?” + +“Because there are other things I value more—your good opinion, for +instance,” said Elliott, with difficulty, feeling all the painful joys +of renunciation. He wanted to say more; he struggled vainly for words, +but after an ineffectual effort he fell back upon a practical +question. + +“What will you do, then?” + +“I’ve been thinking of that,” she said. “I shall try to get something +to do at the Cape. I can always make a living. I can do almost +anything.” + +“Oh, heavens! You mustn’t do that. You sha’n’t!” groaned Elliott. + +“Why not?” she said, with a smile. “Do you know, it is almost a relief +to have the weight of that terrible treasure taken away. It has been a +sort of curse to every one, I think. But it seems a pity, doesn’t it, +that we should get nothing at all for having worked so hard and +travelled so far and risked so much. The government ought to refund +our expenses, anyway.” + +“Salvage! I should think so!” cried Elliott, smiting his hand on the +rail. “Why didn’t I think of it before? Of course we have a claim for +our trouble and expense, and we can collect it, too, if we turn in our +share of the stuff to the Crown.” + +“But I suppose they would allow us only a trifle, after all,” said +Margaret. + +“Not a bit of it. Twenty to fifty per cent. of the value is always +paid for salvaging a cargo. Your share now is nearly three hundred and +fifty thousand dollars, and at least a hundred thousand of that will +be honestly, lawfully yours. Any court will award it to you.” + +“But will Mr. Henninger—” + +“Henninger and the others will never give up a cent of their share; I +know that. We mustn’t spoil their plans, I suppose, so we will give +them time to get safely clear. Then we will surrender our part of it, +and present our bill for expenses, and say nothing about any more +having been recovered. The Crown will be glad enough to get any of it +back.” + +“This is the best news of all!” said Margaret, with a long breath. “A +hundred thousand dollars! That will be fabulous wealth to me! I can +have all the things, and see all the things, and do all the things +that I dreamed of all my life and never expected to realize. Now I +believe I’m really glad to be rich again. Aren’t you?” + +“I don’t know,” Elliott muttered. + +“I think we ought to try to use this money so as to justify having +it,” Margaret went on. “It has cost so much misery and so many lives, +and I want to spend it so as to make it clean again. I want to make +others happy with it, as well as be happy myself. What are you going +to do with it?” + +“I don’t know,” Elliott burst out. “I don’t value this money, whether +it’s a hundred thousand or a million, not a straw. I’d throw it away; +I’d blow it in, like Henninger—God knows what I’ll do with it. There’s +only one thing that I really want I told you what it was at that hotel +in New York, and you ordered me never to speak of it again. If I can’t +have that I don’t care much what becomes of the money, or of anything +else.” + +“Don’t say that. Don’t speak of that—not now!” murmured Margaret; and +as he hesitated she turned quickly away and slipped toward the stern +companionway. “You won’t lose by waiting,” was what she left in a +semi-audible whisper as she vanished, and Elliott had this to ponder +on as he stood watching the heavy swell rolling blackly toward Africa, +toward Durban, where the dhow was due in another day. + +But it was really two days before she glided up the port and anchored +innocently in the bay, looking anything but the treasure-ship she was. +And now the most harassing, the most anxious and delicate part of the +whole adventure was begun. + +Margaret went on to Cape Town at once, with instructions to secure a +maid in that city as a travelling companion and to sail direct for +London. And in her absence the gold was taken ashore piece-meal, in +pockets and travelling-bags and hat-boxes, and little by little +exchanged for clean Bank of England notes and shiny sovereigns. Over +$150,000 was sold in Durban, and then the party proceeded to Cape +Town, where, following the same procedure, nearly twice as much was +passed over to the banks for specie. + +The rest, Henninger decided, could best be disposed of in America, and +he was, besides, anxious to get out of British territory as soon as +possible. Accordingly the dhow was dismantled, the crew paid off, the +reis given a present of two hundred sovereigns above his salary, and +Henninger, Hawke, and Bennett sailed for New York direct, with a +mountain of trunks, each containing a few gold blocks packed among +unnecessary clothing. And two days afterward Elliott took passage for +England with six hundred and forty thousand dollars, being his own and +Margaret’s share of the cargo of the _Clara McClay_. + +Margaret was prepared for his coming, and between them the treasure +was safely deposited in the bank, at which Elliott felt an incubus +lifted from his mind. The next step was to secure an experienced +marine lawyer to forward their salvage claims. + +This gentleman, after passing through a stage of stupefaction at their +unexampled scrupulosity, advised that a claim of forty per cent. of +the value be made, in consideration of the circumstances of the case. +They made it, and then there was long to wait. Red tape, Treasury +tape, Admiralty tape, civil tape was unrolled to a disheartening +length, and the new Transvaal Crown Colony even put in its claim, as +the original owner of the bullion. In the midst of the delay Elliott +received a message from Henninger: + +“We have disposed of all our goods,” he wrote. “Go ahead and make the +best terms you can. Hawke has gone to California to start his bee +farm, but he thinks he will look into a few mining deals in Nevada +before he gets there. Bennett is playing the races on a system. I am +saving my money at present, but I see a chance to double my money in +Venezuela. The treasure trail is a long trail, and we’re not at the +end of the rainbow yet.” + +And in England Elliott and Margaret were finding the latter stages of +the treasure trail long indeed. The salvage case took a great deal of +deciding; the courts appeared to be convinced that some occult +dishonesty must be concealed beneath the offer to restore any part of +the lost treasure, and haggled over the percentage in a manner, it +appeared to Elliott, highly unworthy of the traditions of a mighty +nation. Ultimately, however, a compromise was arrived at. The +government would pay thirty-three per cent.; and Elliott surrendered +the bullion and received back two hundred and twelve thousand dollars, +which he divided equally with Margaret. Six days later they were at +sea, bound out of Southampton for New York. + +Surely, Elliott thought, this was the last of the long trail, as he +listened to the regular “swish—crash!” on her bows that had become so +odiously familiar; and he determined that all should be settled before +he sighted American land. + +“If I ever get ashore again,” he remarked to Margaret, “I’m going to +the quietest, sleepiest country town I can find, and never set eyes on +a steamer or a railway train again as long as I live.” + +They were looking over the stern, where night had fallen on the +heaving swell. It had rained hard, but was clearing; an obscured moon +faintly lit the sea. + +“And do some sort of good work,” said Margaret. “You’ve got ability, +money, and every chance of a happy life.” + +“It’s in your hands,” Elliott declared, feeling his opportunity. + +“It’s not!” she cried, vehemently. “It’s in your own. You’re too +strong to depend on any one else for your life’s success. I don’t like +to hear that!” + +“Listen,” said Elliott. “You wouldn’t let me say this when you were +poor; perhaps you’ll hear it now when you are rich. I was going to +give up every cent of my share of the gold to try to please you—to do +what you thought was square. I’d have given up the whole ship-load—no, +that’s absurdly small, for there simply isn’t anything in the world, +past, present, or future, that I wouldn’t give up and call it a good +bargain if it would make you care for me a little. The best time I +ever had was when I was luckily able to help you, and now I could +almost find it in my heart to be sorry that you have all you need, and +don’t need me any more.” + +She touched his arm ever so gently, and he turned and looked squarely +at her. + +“Not need you!—you!” was all she said. + +The sudden throb of his heart made him gasp. The deck was full of +people, but he put his hand hard down upon hers as it lay on the rail, +and he felt her fingers curl up into his palm. + +“Be careful,” said she, with a new, subtle thrill in her voice. “Oh, +look!” + +From the clearing sky astern the moon was now pouring a full, glorious +flood upon the heaving Atlantic, where the heavy swell ran in +ivory-crested combers. In the pure white light the foam glittered with +prismatic colours, wave after wave, like a long broken rainbow fallen +upon the sea, and sparkling with the streaks of phosphorescence of the +steamer’s wake. + +“The rainbow road,” as Henninger calls it; “the treasure trail,” said +Elliott. “The trail’s ended.” + +But Margaret shook her head. “No,” she said. “The rainbow road has +just begun.” + + + THE END. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TREASURE TRAIL *** + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the +United States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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Thus, we do not +necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper +edition. + +Most people start at our website which has the main PG search +facility: www.gutenberg.org + +This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git "a/Projects/Web-Scraping/Webscraping02-Daniel-Cintr\303\263n.py" "b/Projects/Web-Scraping/Webscraping02-Daniel-Cintr\303\263n.py" new file mode 100644 index 000000000..dc75d8c59 --- /dev/null +++ "b/Projects/Web-Scraping/Webscraping02-Daniel-Cintr\303\263n.py" @@ -0,0 +1,7 @@ +import requests +res = requests.get("https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/67627/pg67627.txt") +res.raise_for_status() +playFile = open("The Treasure Trail", "wb") +for chunk in res.iter_content(5000): + playFile.write(chunk) +playFile.close() \ No newline at end of file From ddb3f596b5ba86acc2170909ef32efc391a97e95 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Wed, 23 Mar 2022 15:04:35 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 47/50] update --- Los Caciques.text | 9571 ----------------- .../WebScraping03-Daniel-Cintr\303\263.py" | 9 + .../Web-Scraping/example.html => example.html | 0 3 files changed, 9 insertions(+), 9571 deletions(-) delete mode 100644 Los Caciques.text create mode 100644 "Projects/Web-Scraping/WebScraping03-Daniel-Cintr\303\263.py" rename Projects/Web-Scraping/example.html => example.html (100%) diff --git a/Los Caciques.text b/Los Caciques.text deleted file mode 100644 index df3ba6fd8..000000000 --- a/Los Caciques.text +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9571 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Treasure Trail, by Frank L. Pollock - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Treasure Trail - -Author: Frank L. Pollock - -Illustrator: Louis D. Gowing - -Release Date: March 13, 2022 [eBook #67627] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Roger Frank and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at - https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from images - made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TREASURE TRAIL *** - - - - - - THE TREASURE TRAIL - - -[Illustration: “Suddenly Sullivan stood up jerkily on the deck.”] - - - - - The Treasure Trail - - BY - FRANK L. POLLOCK - - With a Frontispiece in Colour by - Louis D. Gowing - - Boston L. C. PAGE & COMPANY - MDCCCCVI - - - - - Copyright, 1906 - By L. C. Page & Company - (INCORPORATED) - - All rights reserved - - First Impression, May, 1906 - - COLONIAL PRESS - Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co. - Boston, U.S.A. - - - - - CONTENTS - - I. The New Leaf - II. The Open Road - III. The Adventurer - IV. The Fate of the Treasure Ship - V. The Ace of Diamonds - VI. The Mystery of the Mate - VII. The Indiscretion of Henninger - VIII. The Man from Alabama - IX. On the Trail - X. A Lost Clue - XI. Illumination - XII. Open War - XIII. First Blood - XIV. The Clue Found - XV. The Other Way Round the World - XVI. The End of the Trail - XVII. The Treasure - XVIII. The Battle on the Lagoon - XIX. The Second Wreck - XX. The Rainbow Road - - - - - THE TREASURE TRAIL - - - - - CHAPTER I. THE NEW LEAF - - -“Lord! what a haul!” Elliott murmured to himself, glancing over his -letter while he waited with the horses for Margaret, who had said that -she would be just twelve minutes in putting on her riding-costume. The -letter was from an old-time Colorado acquaintance who was then -superintending a Transvaal gold mine, and, probably by reason of the -exigencies of war, the epistle had taken over two months to come from -Pretoria. Elliott had been able to peruse it only by snatches, for the -pinto horse with the side-saddle was fidgety, communicating its -uneasiness to his own mount. - -“And managed to loot the treasury of over a million in gold, they say, -and got away with it all. The regular members of the Treasury -Department were at the front, I suppose, with green hands in their -places,” he read. - -It was a great haul, indeed. Elliott glanced absently along the muddy -street of the Nebraska capital, and his face hardened into an -expression that was not usual. It was on the whole a good-looking -face, deeply tanned, with a pleasant mouth and a small yellowish -moustache that lent a boyishness to his whole countenance, belied by -the mesh of fine lines about the eyes that come only of years upon the -great plains. The eyes were gray, keen, and alive with a spirit of -enterprise that might go the length of recklessness; and their owner -was, in fact, reflecting rather bitterly that during the past ten -years all his enterprises had been too reckless, or perhaps not -reckless enough. He had not had the convictions of his courage. The -story of the stealings of a ring of Boer ex-officials had made him -momentarily regret his own passable honesty; and it struck him that in -his present strait he would not care to meet the temptation of even -less than a million in gold, with a reasonable chance of getting away -with it. - -This subjective dishonesty was cut short by Margaret, who hurried down -the veranda steps, holding up her brown riding-skirt. She surveyed the -pinto with critical consideration. - -“Warranted not to pitch,” Elliott remarked. “The livery-stable man -said a child could ride him.” - -“You’d better take him, then. I don’t want him,” retorted Margaret - -“This one may be even more domestic. What in the world are you going -to do with that gun?” - -“Don’t let Aunt Louisa see it; she’s looking out the window,” implored -Margaret, her eyes dancing. “I want to shoot when we get out of town. -Put it in your pocket, please,—that’s against the law, you know. -You’re not afraid of the law, are you?” - -“I am, indeed. I’ve seen it work,” Elliott replied; but he slipped the -black, serviceable revolver into his hip pocket, and reined round to -follow her. She had scrambled into the saddle without assistance, and -was already twenty yards down the street, scampering away at a speed -unexpected from the maligned pinto, and she had crossed the Union -Pacific tracks before he overtook her. From that point it was not far -to the prairie fields and the barbed-wire fences. The brown Nebraska -plains rolled undulating in scallops against the clear horizon; in the -rear the great State House dome began to disengage itself from a mass -of bare branches. The road was of black, half-dried muck, the potent -black earth of the wheat belt, without a pebble in it, and deep ruts -showed where wagons had sunk hub-deep a few days before. - -A fresh wind blew in their faces, coming strong and pure from the -leagues and leagues of moist March prairie, full of the thrill of -spring. Riding a little in the rear, Elliott watched it flutter the -brown curls under Margaret’s grey felt hat, creased in rakish -affectation of the cow-puncher’s fashion. Now that he was about to -lose her, he seemed to see her all at once with new eyes, and all at -once he realized how much her companionship had meant to him during -these past six months in Lincoln,—a half-year that had just come to so -disastrous an end. - -Margaret Laurie lived with her aunt on T Street, and gave lessons in -piano and vocal music at seventy-five cents an hour. Her mother had -been dead so long that Elliott had never heard her mentioned; the -father was a Methodist missionary in foreign parts. During the whole -winter Elliott had seen her almost daily. They had walked together, -ridden together, skated together when there was ice, and had fired off -some twenty boxes of cartridges at pistol practice, for which -diversion Margaret had a pronounced aptitude as well as taste. She had -taught him something of good music, and he confided to her the -vicissitudes of the real estate business in a city where a boom is -trembling between inflation and premature extinction. It had all been -as stimulating as it had been delightful; and part of its charm lay in -the fact that there had always been the frankest camaraderie between -them, and nothing else. Elliott wished for nothing else; he told -himself that he had known enough of the love of women to value a -woman’s friendship. But on this last ride together he felt as if -saturated with failure—and it was to be the last ride. - -Margaret broke in upon his meditations. “Please give me the gun,” she -commanded. “And if it’s not too much trouble, I wish you’d get one of -those empty tomato-cans by the road.” - -“You can’t hit it,” ventured Elliott, as he dismounted and tossed the -can high in the air. The pistol banged, but the can fell untouched, -and the pinto pony capered at the report. - -“Better let me hold your horse for you,” Elliott commented, with a -grin. - -“No, thank you,” she retorted, setting her teeth. “Now,—throw it up -again.” - -This time, at the crack of the revolver, the can leaped a couple of -feet higher, and as it poised she hit it again. Two more shots missed, -and the pinto, becoming uncontrollable, bolted down the road, -scattering the black earth in great flakes. Elliott galloped in -pursuit, but she was perfectly capable of reducing the animal to -submission, and she had him subjected before he overtook her. - -“It’s easier than it looks,” Margaret instructed him, kindly. “You -shoot when the can poises to fall, when it’s really stationary for a -second.” - -“Thank you—I’ve tried it,” Elliott responded, as they rode on side by -side, at the easy lope of the Western horse. The wind sang in their -ears, though it was warm and sunny, and it was bringing a yellowish -haze up the blue sky. - - “‘Weh, weh, der Wind!’” - -hummed Margaret, softly. - - “‘Frisch weht der Wind der Heimath zu; - Mein Irisch Kind, wo weilest Du——?’” - -“What a truly Western combination,—horses, Wagner, and gun-play!” -remarked Elliott. - -“Of course it is. Where else in the world could you find anything like -it? It’s the Greek ideal—action and culture at once.” - -“It may be Greek. But I know it would startle the Atlantic coast.” - -“I don’t care for the Atlantic coast. Or—yes, I do. I’m going to tell -you a great secret. Do you know what I’ve wanted more than anything -else in life?” - -“Your father must be coming home from the South Seas,” Elliott -hazarded. - -“Dear old father! He isn’t in the South Seas now; he’s in South -Africa. No, it isn’t that. I’m going to Baltimore this fall to study -music. I’ve been arguing it for weeks with Aunt Louisa. I wanted to go -to New York or Boston, but she said the Boston winter would kill me, -and New York was too big and dangerous. So we compromised on -Baltimore.” - -“Hurrah!” said Elliott, with some lack of enthusiasm. “Baltimore is a -delightful town. I used to be a newspaper man there before I came West -and became an adventurer. I wish I were going to anything half so -good.” - -“You’re not leaving Lincoln, are you?” she inquired, turning quickly -to look at him. - -“I’m afraid I must.” - -“When are you going, and where?” she demanded, almost peremptorily. - -“I don’t exactly know. I had thought of trying mining again,” with a -certain air of discouragement. - -Margaret looked the other way, out across the muddy sheet of water -known locally as Salt Lake, where a flock of wild ducks was fluttering -aimlessly over the surface; and she said nothing. - -“I suppose you know that the bottom’s dropped out of the land boom in -Lincoln,” Elliott pursued. “I’ve seen it dropping for a month; in -fact, there never was any real boom at all. Anyhow, the real estate -office of Wingate Elliott, Desirable City Property Bought and Sold, -closed up yesterday.” - -“You don’t mean that you have—” - -“Failed? Busted? I do. I’ve got exactly eighty-two dollars in the -world.” - -She began to laugh, and then stopped, looking at him -half-incredulously. - -“You don’t appear to mind it much, at least.” - -“No? Well, you see it’s happened so often before that I’m used to it. -Good Lord! it seems to me that I’ve left a trail of ineffectual -dollars all over the West!” - -“You do mind it—a great deal!” exclaimed Margaret, impulsively putting -a hand upon his bridle. “Please tell me all about it. We’re good -friends—the very best, aren’t we?—but you’ve told me hardly anything -about your life.” - -“There’s nothing interesting about it; nothing but looking for easy -money and not finding it,” replied Elliott. He was scrutinizing the -sky ahead. “Don’t you think we had better turn back? Look at those -clouds.” - -The firmament had darkened to the zenith with a livid purple tinge low -in the west, and the wind was blowing in jerky, powerful gusts. A -growl of thunder rumbled overhead. - -“It’s too early for a twister, and I don’t mind rain. I’ve nothing on -that will spoil,” said Margaret, almost abstractedly. She had scarcely -spoken when there was a sharp patter, and then a blast of drops driven -by the wind. A vivid flash split the clouds, and with the -instantaneous thunder the patter of the rain changed to a rattle, and -the black road whitened with hail. The horses plunged as the hard -pellets rebounded from hide and saddle. - -“We must get shelter. The beasts won’t stand this,” cried Elliott, -reining round. The lumps of ice drove in cutting gusts, and the -frightened horses broke into a gallop toward the city. For a few -moments the storm slackened; then a second explosion of thunder seemed -to bring a second fusilade, driving almost horizontally under the -violent wind, stinging like shot. - -Across an unfenced strip of pasture Elliott’s eye fell upon the Salt -Lake spur of the Union Pacific tracks, where a mile of rails is used -for the storage of empty freight-cars. He pulled his horse round and -galloped across the intervening space, with Margaret at his heels, and -in half a minute they had reached the lee of the line of cars, where -there was shelter. He hooked the bridles over the iron handle of a -box-car door that stood open, and scrambled into the car, swinging -Margaret from her saddle to the doorway. - -It was a perfect refuge. The storm rattled like buckshot on the roof -and swept in cloudy pillars across the Salt Lake, where the wild ducks -flew to and fro, quacking from sheer joy, but the car was clean and -dry, slightly dusted with flour. They sat down in the door with their -feet dangling out beside the horses, that shivered and stamped at the -stroke of chance pellets of hail. - -“This is splendid!” said Margaret, looking curiously about the planked -interior of the car. “Why do you want to leave Lincoln?” she went on -in a lower tone, after a pause. - -“I don’t want to leave Lincoln.” - -“But you said just now—” - -“It seems to me, by Jove, that I’ve done nothing but leave places ever -since I came West!” Elliott exclaimed, impatiently. “That was ten -years ago. I came out from Baltimore, you know. I was born there, and -I learned newspaper work on the _Despatch_ there, and then I came West -and got a job on the Denver _Telegraph_.” - -“At a high salary, I suppose.” - -“So high that it seemed a sort of gold mine, after Eastern rates. But -it didn’t last. The paper was sold and remodelled inside a year, and -most of the reporters fired. I couldn’t find another newspaper job -just then, so I went out with a survey party in Dakota for the winter -and nearly froze to death, but when I got back and drew all my -accumulated salary, I bought a half-interest in a gold claim in the -Black Hills. Mining in the Black Hills was just beginning to boom -then, and I sold my claim in a couple of months for three thousand. I -made another three thousand in freighting that summer, and if I had -stayed at it I might have got rich, but I came down to Omaha and lost -it all playing the wheat market. I had a sure tip.” - -“Six thousand dollars! That’s more money than I ever saw all at once,” -Margaret commented. - -“It was more money than I saw for some time after that; but that’s a -fair specimen of the way I did things. Once I walked into Seattle -broke, and came out with four thousand dollars. I cleaned up nearly -twenty thousand once on real estate in San Francisco. Afterwards I -went down to Colorado, mining. I could almost have bought up the whole -Cripple Creek district when I got there, if I had had savvy enough, -but I let the chance slip, and when I did go to speculating my capital -went off like smoke. The end of it was that I had to go into the mines -and swing a pick myself.” - -“You were game, it seems, anyway,” said Margaret, who was listening -with absorbed interest. The sky was clearing a little, and the hail -had ceased, but the rain still swept in gusty clouds over the brown -prairie. - -“I had to be. It did me good, and I got four dollars a day, and in six -months I was working a claim of my own. By this time I thought I was -wise, and I sold it as soon as I found a sucker. I got ten thousand -for it, and I heard afterwards that he took fifty thousand out of it.” - -“What a fraud!” cried Margaret, indignantly. - -“Anyhow, I bought a little newspaper in a Kansas town that was just -drawing its breath for a boom. I worked for it till I almost got to -believe in that town myself. At one time my profits in corner lots and -things—on paper, you know—were up in the hundreds of thousands. In the -end, I had to sell for less than one thousand, and then I came to -Lincoln and worked for the paper here. That was two years ago, when I -first met you. Do you remember?” - -“I remember. You only stayed about four months. What did you do then?” - -“Yes, it seemed too slow here, too far east. I went back to North -Dakota, mining and country journalism. I did pretty well too, but for -the life of me I don’t know what became of the money. After that I -did—oh, everything. I rode a line on a ranch in Wyoming; I worked in a -sawmill in Oregon; I made money in some places and lost it in others. -Eight months ago I had a nice little pile, and I heard that there was -a big opening in real estate here in Lincoln, so I came.” - -“And wasn’t there an opening?” - -“There must have been. It swallowed up all my little pile without any -perceptible effect, all but eighty-two dollars.” - -“And now—?” - -“And now—I don’t know. I was reading a letter just now from a man I -know in South Africa telling of a theft of a million in gold from the -Pretoria treasury during the confusion of the war. Do you know, I -half-envied those thieves; I did, honour bright. A quick million is -what I’ve always been chasing, and I’d almost steal it if I got the -chance.” - -“You wouldn’t do any thing of the sort. I know you better than that. -You’re going to do something sensible and strong and brave. What is it -to be?” - -“But I don’t know,” cried Elliott. “There are heaps of things that I -can do, but I tell you I feel sick of the whole game. I feel as if I’d -been wasting time and money and everything.” - -“So you have, dear boy, so you have,” agreed Margaret. “And now, if -you’d let me advise you, I’d tell you to find out what you like best -and what you can do best, and settle down to that. You’ve had no -definite purpose at all.” - -“I have. It was always a quick fortune,” Elliott remonstrated. “I’ve -got it yet. There are plenty of chances in the West for a man to make -a million with less capital than I’ve got now. This isn’t a country of -small change.” - -“Yes, I know. I’ve heard men talk like that,” said Margaret, more -thoughtfully. “But it seems to me that you’ve been doing nothing but -gamble all your life, hoping for a big haul. Of course, I’ve no right -to advise you. Nebraska is all I know of the world, but I don’t like -to think of you going back to the ‘game,’ as you call it. Do you know -that it hurts me to think of you making money and losing it again, -year after year, and neglecting all your real chances? Too many men -have done that. A few of them won, but nobody knows where most of them -died. There are such chances to do good in the world, to be happy -ourselves and make others happy, and when I think of a man like my -father—” - -“You wouldn’t want me to go to Fiji as a missionary?” Elliott -interrupted. He was shy on the subject of her father, whom Margaret -had seen scarcely a dozen times since she could remember, but who was -her constant ideal of heroism, energy, and virtue. - -“Of course not. But don’t you like newspaper work?” - -“I like it very much.” - -“And isn’t it a good profession?” - -“Very fair, if one works like a slave. That is, I might reach a salary -of five thousand dollars a year. The best way is to buy out a small -country daily and build it up as the town grows. There’s money in that -sometimes.” - -“Why not do it, then? It’s not for the sake of the money. I hate -money; I’ve never had any. But I don’t believe any one can be really -happy after he’s twenty-five without a definite purpose and a kind of -settled life. Some day you’ll want to marry—” - -“Don’t say that. I’ve been a free lance too long!” cried Elliott. - -“I’ve always been afraid of matrimony, too,” said Margaret, with a -quick flush. “I want my own life, all my own.” - -“But what you say is right, dead right,” said Elliott, after a -reflective pause that lasted for several minutes. “It’s just what my -own conscience has been telling me.” He stopped to meditate again. - -“I’ll tell you what I think I’ll do,” he proceeded, at last. “I’ll go -over to Omaha and look for a job on one of the dailies there. I expect -I can get it, and it’ll give me time to think over my plans. - -“You’re not going East till fall, and I can run across here often, so -that I’ll be able to see you. I may go East this fall myself. You’ve -just crystallized what I’ve been thinking. I will do something to -surprise you, and I’ll make a fortune with it. Will you shake hands on -it?” - -She pulled off the riding-gauntlet and put out her hand, meeting his -eyes squarely. The deep flush still lingered in her cheeks. - -“We _are_ good friends,” he exclaimed, feeling a desire to say -something, he scarcely knew what. - -“The very best!” said Margaret, looking bright-eyed at him. “I hope we -always will be. Come,” she cried, pulling her hand away. “The storm’s -over. Let’s go back.” - -The rain had made the road very sticky, and they rode slowly side by -side, while Margaret chattered vivaciously of her own future, of her -music, of the coming winter in the East. She was full of plans, and -Elliott sunk his own perplexities to share in her enthusiasm. He was -himself imbued with the cheerfulness that comes of good resolutions, -whose difficulties are yet untried. - -“When are you going to Omaha?” she asked him, as he left her at the -gate. - -“In a couple of days. I’ll see you, of course, before I go.” - -He packed his two trunks that night. He did not see her again, -however, for she happened to be out when he called to make his -farewell. He was unreasonably annoyed at this disappointment, and -thought of delaying his departure another day, but he was afraid that -she would consider it weak. Anyhow, he expected to be back in Lincoln -within a fortnight, and he left that night for Omaha. - -The next couple of days he spent in a round of visits to the offices -of the various Omaha newspapers. He found every staff filled to its -capacity. There was a prospect of a vacancy in about a month, but it -was too long to wait, and, happening to hear that the St. Joseph -_Post_ was looking for a new city editor, he went thither with a -letter of introduction from the manager of the Omaha _Bee_. - - - - - CHAPTER II. THE OPEN ROAD - - -“That’s number eighteen, and the red,” said the croupier behind the -roulette-table, raking in the checks that the player had scattered -about the checkered layout. Round went the ball again with a whirr, -though there were no fresh stakes placed. - -In fact, Elliott had no more to place. The stack of checks he had -purchased was exhausted, and he had no mind to buy more. He slid down -from the high stool and stepped back, and with the fever of the game -still throbbing in his blood, he watched the little ivory ball as it -spun. It slackened speed; in a moment it would jump; and Elliott -suddenly felt—he _knew_—what the result would be. He thrust his hand -into his pocket where a crumpled bill lingered, and it was on his lips -to say “Five dollars on the single zero, straight,” when the ball -tripped on a barrier and fell. - -“That’s the single zero,” said the croupier, and spun the ball again. - -Elliott turned away, shrugging his shoulders. “That’s enough for me -to-night,” he remarked, with an affectation of unconcern. He had no -luck; he could predict the combinations only when he did not stake. - -The sleepy negro on guard drew the bolt for him to pass out, and he -went down the stairs to the precipitous St. Joseph streets, at that -hour, silent and deserted. It was a mild spring night, and the air -smelled sweet after the heavy atmosphere of the gaming-rooms. A full -moon dimmed the electric lights, and his steps echoed along the empty -street as he walked slowly toward the river-front, where the muddy -Missouri rolled yellow in the sparkling moonlight. - -As the coolness quieted his nerves he was filled with sickening -disgust at his own folly and weakness. “Why had he done it?” he asked -himself. He had never been a gambler, in the usual sense of the word. -His ventures had always been staked upon larger and more vital events -than the turn of a card or of a wheel, but after finding that he had -come to St. Joseph upon a fruitless quest, after all, he had gone to -the gaming-rooms with one of the _Post’s_ reporters, who was showing -him the town. In his depression and weariness and curiosity he had -begun to stake small sums and to win. He remembered scarcely anything -more. He had won largely; then the luck changed. He had sat down at -the table with nearly seventy dollars. How much was left? - -He had reached the bottom of the street, and, crossing the railway -tracks, he walked out upon the long pier that extends into the river -and sat down upon a pile of planks. A freight-train outbound for St. -Louis shattered the night as it banged over the noisy switches, and -then silence fell again upon the yellow river. In the unsleeping -railway-yards to the east there was an incessant flash and flicker of -swinging lanterns. - -He turned out his pockets. There was the five-dollar bill that he had -saved from the wheel, and a quantity of loose silver,—eighty-five -cents. With a lively emotion of pleasure he discovered another folded -five-dollar bill in his pocketbook which he had not suspected. Ten -dollars and eighty-five cents was the total amount. It was all that -was left of his former capital, or it was the nucleus of his new -fortunes, as he should choose to consider it. - -At the memory of the promises he had made scarcely a hundred hours ago -to Margaret Laurie, he shivered with shame and self-reproach, and in -his remorse he realized more clearly than ever the truth of her words. -He was wasting his life, his time, and his money; and already the -endless chase of the rainbow’s end began to seem no longer desirable. -In an access of gloom he foresaw years and years of such unprofitable -existence as he had already spent, alternations of impermanent success -and real disaster, of useless labour, of hardship that had lost its -romance and come to be as sordid as poverty, and for the sum of it -all, Failure. The fitful fever of such a life could have no place for -the quiet and graceful pleasures that he had almost forgotten, but -which seemed just then to lie at the basis of happiness and success; -and suddenly in his mind there arose a vision of the old city on the -Chesapeake Bay, its crooked and narrow streets named after long dead -colonial princes, its shady gardens, the Southern indolence, the -Southern quiet and perfume. - -That was where Margaret was going, and there perhaps he had left what -he should have clung to; and, as he turned this matter over in his -mind, he remembered another fact of present importance. One of the men -with whom he had worked on the Baltimore _Mail_ had within the last -year become its city editor. He had written offering Elliott a -position should he want it, but Elliott had never seriously considered -the proposition. - -Now, however, he jumped at it. “The West’s too young for me,” he -reflected. “I’d better get out of the game.” He would write to Grange -for the job that night, and he would be in Baltimore long before -Margaret would arrive there. No, he would start for the East that -night without writing,—and then he was chilled by the memory of his -reduced circumstances. A ticket to Baltimore would cost thirty-five -dollars at least. - -But the Westerner’s first lesson is to regard distance with contempt. -Elliott had travelled without money before, but it was where he knew -obliging freight conductors who would give him a lift in the caboose, -while between the Mississippi and the Atlantic was new ground to him. -Nevertheless he was unable to bring himself to regard the thousand odd -miles as a real obstacle. He could walk to the Mississippi if he had -to; it would be no novelty. Once on the river he could get a cheap -deck passage to Pittsburg, or he might even work his passage. -Probably, however, he could get a temporary job in St. Louis which -would supply expenses for the journey. As for his baggage, it would go -by express C. O. D., and he could draw enough advance salary in -Baltimore to pay for it. - -As he walked back to his hotel, he felt as if he were already in -Baltimore, regardless of the long and probably hard road that had -first to be travelled. That part of it, indeed, struck him rather in -the light of a joke. A few rough knocks were needed to seal his good -resolutions firmly this time, and the tramp to the Mississippi would -be a sort of penance, a pilgrimage. - -He debated whether to write to Margaret, and decided that he had -better not. It would not be pleasant to confess; at least it would be -preferable to wait until he was launched upon the new and industrious -career which he had planned. He would write from Baltimore, not -before. - -That night he laid out his roughest suit, and it was still early the -next morning when he tramped out of St. Joseph. His baggage was in the -hands of the express company, and he carried no load; despite his -penury he preferred to buy things than to “pack” them. He followed the -tracks of the Burlington Railroad with the idea that this would give -him a better and straighter route than the highway, as well as a -greater certainty of encountering villages at regular intervals. He -was unencumbered, strong, and hopeful, and he rejoiced, smoking his -pipe in the cool air, as he left the last streets behind, and saw the -steel rails running out infinitely between the brown corn-fields and -the orchards, straight into the shining West. - -For a long time Elliott remembered that day as one of the most -enjoyable he ever spent. It was warm enough to be pleasant; the track, -ballasted heavily with clay, made a delightfully elastic footpath; on -either side were pleasant bits of woodland dividing the brown fields -where the last year’s cornstalks were scattered, and farmhouses and -orchards clustered on the rolling slopes. Where they lay beside the -track the air was full of the hoarse “booing” of doves; and, after the -rawness of the treeless plains, this seemed to Elliott a land of -ancient comfort, of long-founded homesteads, and all manner of -richness. - -He had intended to ask for dinner at one of the farmhouses, where they -would charge him only a trifle, but he developed a nervous fear of -being taken for a tramp. Again and again he selected a house in the -distance where he resolved to make the essay; approached it -resolutely—and weakly passed by, finding some excuse for his -hesitation. It was too imposing, or too small; it looked as if dinner -were not ready, or as if it were already over; and all the time hunger -was growing more acute in his vitals. About one o’clock, however, he -came to a little village, just as his appetite was growing -uncontrollable. He cast economy to the dogs, went to the single hotel, -washed off the dust at the pump, and fell upon the hot country dinner -of coarse food supplied in unlimited quantity. It cost twenty-five -cents, but it was worth it; and after it was all over he strolled -slowly down the track, and finally sat down in the spring sun and -smoked till he softly fell asleep. - -He was awakened by the roar of an express-train going eastward, and it -occurred to him that his baggage must be aboard that train, travelling -in ease while its owner plodded between the rails. It was after two -o’clock; he had rested long enough, and he returned to the track and -took up the trail again. - -At sunset he reached Hamilton, and his time-table folder indicated -that he had travelled twenty-seven miles that day. At this rate he -would reach the Mississippi in less than a week, and he felt only an -ordinary sense of healthy fatigue and an extraordinary appetite. - -He was charged a quarter for supper that evening at a farmhouse, and -before dark he had reached the next village. There was a bit of -woodland near by where he imagined that he could encamp, and as it had -been a warm day he thought a fire would be unnecessary. So in the -twilight he scraped together a heap of last year’s leaves, and spread -his coat blanket-wise over his shoulders. It reminded him of many -camps in the mountains, and he went to sleep almost at once, for he -was very tired. - -A sensation of extreme cold awoke him. It was dark; the stars were -shining above the trees, and, looking at his watch by a match flare, -he learned that it was a quarter to twelve. But the cold was -unbearable; he lay and shivered miserably for half an hour, and then -got up to look for wood for a fire. In the darkness he could find -nothing, and, thoroughly awake by this time, he abandoned the camp and -went back through the gloom to the railway station, where half a dozen -empty box cars stood upon the siding. Clambering into one of these, it -appeared comparatively warm; it reminded him of Margaret and of the -hail upon Salt Lake,—things which already seemed very far away. - -His rest that night was shattered at frequent intervals by the crash -of passing freight-trains. They stopped, backed, and shunted within -six feet of him with a clatter of metal like a collapsing foundry, a -noise of loud talking and swearing, and a swinging flash of lanterns. -Drowsily Elliott fancied that his car was likely to be attached to -some train and hauled away, perhaps to St. Louis, perhaps to St. -Joseph, but in the stupefaction of sleep he did not care where he -went; and, in fact, when he awoke he saw the little village still -visible through the open side door, looking strange and unfamiliar in -the gray dawn. Grass and fences were white with hoarfrost. - -At five o’clock that afternoon Elliott was twenty-two miles nearer the -Mississippi. He had just passed a small station. His time-table told -him that there was another eight miles away, and he decided to reach -it and spend the night in one of its empty freight-cars, for he had -learned that camping without a fire was not practicable. - -He reached the desired point just as it was growing dark. Point is the -word, for it was nothing else. There was no depot there, no houses, no -siding,—nothing whatever but a name painted on a mocking plank beside -the track. It was a crossroads flag-station. Elliott had failed to -notice the “f” opposite the name in the time-table. - -The sun had set in clouds and a fine cold rain was beginning. The sky -looked black as iron. A camp in the rain was out of the question. The -next village was five miles away, but he would have to reach it. - -It was a dark night, but it never grows entirely dark in the open air, -as house-dwellers imagine, and as he went on he could make out looming -masses of forest on either hand. The country seemed to be growing -marshy; he came to several long trestles, which he crossed in fear of -an inopportune train. - -Presently the track plunged into a sort of swamp, where the trees came -close and black on both sides. The rain pattered in pools of water, -and through the wet air darted great fireflies in streaks of bluish -light. Their fading trails crossed among the rotting trees, and from -the depths of the marsh sounded such a chorus of frog voices as he had -never dreamed of, in piccolo, tenor, bass, screeching and thrumming. -In the deepest recesses some weird reptile emitted at regular -intervals a rattling Mephistophelean laugh. It impressed Elliott with -a kind of horror,—the blue witch-fires flashing through the rain, the -reptilian voices, and that ghastly laugh from the decaying woods; and -he hastened to leave it behind. - -It proved a very long five miles to the next station, and he was wet -through and stumbling with weariness when he reached it. The village -was pitch-dark; not a light burned about the station except the steady -switch-lamps; not a freight-car stood upon the siding. There was not -even a roof over the platform, and, too tired to look for shelter, -Elliott dropped upon a pile of lumber by the track, and went heavily -to sleep in the rain. - -The hideous clangour of a passing express-train awoke him; he was -growing accustomed to such awakenings. It was an hour from sunrise. -Close to him stood the little red station and a great water-tank. The -village was still asleep among the dripping trees. Not a smoke arose -from any chimney. - -It had stopped raining, and the east was clearer. Elliott was wet -through, cold and stiff, and he found his feet sore and swollen. He -was not in training for so much pedestrian exercise, and he had -overdone it. - -But the solitary hotel of the village awoke early, and Elliott did not -have to wait long for breakfast. Shortly after sunrise, strengthened -with hot coffee, he was renewing the march, finding every step -exquisitely painful. The romance of this sort of vagabondage was fast -evaporating, and the thought of the seventy dollars that he had wasted -in St. Joseph infuriated him. - -When the sun rose high enough to dry his garments, he sat down, -removed his coat, and steamed gently. After this respite the pain in -his blistered soles was worse than ever, but he trudged stoically on. -After an hour it grew dulled till he scarcely noticed it, and about -noon he reached Redwood. - -Near the station there was a small lunchroom, where Elliott satisfied -his appetite, and he returned to the railway, sat upon a pile of ties, -lighted his pipe, and reflected. The endless line of shining rails -running eternally eastward was loathsome to his eyes. - -“I’ve overdone it at the start. I ought to lie up and rest for a day -or two,” he said to himself. But even walking appeared preferable to -idling in the scraggly village, and he suddenly determined that he -would neither idle nor yet walk, but nevertheless he would be in -Hannibal in two days. - -He sat on the pile of ties for over an hour. A ponderous freight-train -dragged up to the station, went upon the siding and waited till the -fast express flashed past without stopping. Then the freight got -clumsily under way again with a tremendous clank and clamour. At it -rolled slowly past, Elliott saw a side door half-open. He ran after -it, swung himself up by his elbows, and tumbled head first into the -car. - -The train went on, gradually gaining speed. There were loose handfuls -of corn scattered about the car from its last load. Elliott slid the -door almost shut and sat down on the floor, wondering if the crew had -seen him get aboard. - -The train was attaining a considerable speed and the car was flung -over the rails with shattering jolts. Through the cranny of the door -Elliott saw trees and fields sweep by, and he was considering -pleasantly that he had already travelled an hour’s walk, when a heavy -trampling of feet sounded on the roof of the pitching car. - -He listened with some uneasiness. The feet reached the end of the car; -he heard them coming down the iron ladder, and then a face, a grimed -but not unfriendly face, topped by a blue cap, appeared at the little -slide in the end. - -“Hello!” called the brakeman, peering into the dark interior. “I know -you’re there. I seen you get in. I kin see you now.” - -At this culminative address, Elliott came out of his dusky corner. - -“Where you goin’?” demanded the brakeman. - -“Why, I’d like to stay right with this train. It’s going my way,” -replied Elliott. “You don’t mind, do you?” - -“Dunno as I do,—but you can’t ride this train free.” - -“Oh, that’s all right,” responded the trespasser. “I’m pretty short or -else I’d be on the cushions instead of here, but I don’t mind putting -up a quarter. Does that go?” - -“I reckon,” said the brakeman, unhesitatingly. “This train don’t go -only to Brookfield; that’s the division point. Keep the door shet, an’ -don’t let nobody see you.” - -He went back to the top of the train. Elliott felt as if he had been -swindled, for Brookfield was only twenty-five miles away. However, he -hoped to catch another freight that afternoon and make as many more -miles before sunset, and he settled himself as comfortably as possible -on the jolting floor and lighted his pipe. - -He had time to smoke many pipes before reaching Brookfield, for it was -nearly two hours before the heavy train rolled into the yards. Elliott -climbed out upon the side-ladder and swung to the ground before the -train stopped, to avoid a possible railway constable. Considerably to -his surprise, he saw half a dozen rusty-looking vagrants hanging to -the irons and jumping off at the same time. He had had more fellow -passengers than he had suspected, and it struck him that -freight-breaking must be rather a lucrative employment. - -All the rest of that afternoon Elliott watched the freight-yards, but, -though some trains departed eastward, they appeared to contain no -empty cars. After supper he returned to the railroad, and remained -there till it grew dark. Trains came and went; there were engines -hissing and panting without cease; all the dozen tracks were crowded -with cars, and up and down the narrow alleys between them hastened men -with lanterns, talking and swearing loudly. The crash and jar of -coupling and shunting went on ceaselessly, and this activity did not -lessen, and the night passed, for Brookfield was one of the “division -points” on the main line of a great railroad. - -It was nearly midnight when Elliott observed that a train was being -made up with the caboose on the western end. He walked its length; the -switchmen paid no attention to him, and he discovered an empty box car -about the middle of the train, and into it he climbed without delay. -For another half-hour, however, the manipulation of the cars -continued, with successive violent shocks as fresh cars were coupled -on. The whole train seemed to be broken and shuffled in the darkness, -and it was hauled up and down till Elliott began to doubt whether it -were going ahead at all. But at last he heard the welcome two blasts -from the locomotive ahead, and in another minute the long train was -labouring out. - -This time he suffered no interference from any brakeman. The train was -a fast freight; it made no stop for nearly two hours, and then -continued after the briefest delay. The speed was high enough to make -the springless car most uncomfortable, till the jolts seemed to shake -the very bones loose in Elliott’s body. Every position he tried seemed -more uncomfortable than the last, but he was determined to stay with -the train as far as it went. After a few hours of being tossed about, -he became somewhat stupefied, and even dozed a little, and between -sleep and waking the night passed. In the first gray of morning the -train pulled up at the great water-tank at Palmyra Junction, fifteen -miles from Hannibal. He had travelled ninety miles that night. - -The train went no farther. After waiting an hour or two for another, -Elliott decided to walk the rest of the way, and he left Palmyra at -nine o’clock, arriving in Hannibal, very tired and dusty, at a little -after three. At the bottom of the long street he caught a glimpse of -the broad Mississippi rolling yellow between its banked levees. The -first stage of the journey was accomplished; the next would be upon -the river. - - - - - CHAPTER III. THE ADVENTURER - - -When he went down to the levee an hour or two later, Elliott found no -boats preparing to sail, and a general lack of activity about the -steamer wharves. Sitting upon a stack of cotton-bales, he perceived a -young man of rather less than his own age, smoking with something of -the air of a busy man who finds a moment for relaxation. He was very -much tanned; he wore a flannel shirt and a black tie, and his clothes -were soiled with axle-grease and coal-dust. By these tokens Elliott -recognized that he had been for some time in contact with the -railways, but he did not look like a railway man, and his face wore a -bright alertness that distinguished it unmistakably from that of the -joyless hobo. Elliott took him for an amateur vagrant like himself. - -“Seems to be nothing doing on the river. Do you know when there’s a -boat for St. Louis?” he asked, pausing beside the cotton-bales. - -The lounger took stock of Elliott, keenly but with good nature. - -“There ought to be one leaving about six o’clock, but I don’t see any -sign of her yet,” he responded. “Going down the river?” - -“I thought I’d try it. Do you reckon the mate would take me on, even -if it was only to work my passage?” - -“What do you want to do that for?” queried the other, with a sort of -astonished amusement. - -“Why, I wanted to get to St. Louis, and after that up to Pittsburg or -Cincinnati.” - -“If you want to get there easy, and get there alive, I don’t see why -you don’t swim,” remarked the stranger, dryly. “You don’t know much -about these river boats, do you? Man, they’re floating hells. The crew -is all niggers, and the toughest gang of pirates in America. They -knife a man for a chew of tobacco. The officers themselves don’t -hardly dare go down on the lower deck after dark,—but, Lord! they do -take it out of the black devils when they tie up at a wharf and start -to unload. If you can’t work for ten hours at a stretch toting a -hundred-pound crate in each hand, live on corn bread, and kill a man -every night, don’t try the boats. A white man wouldn’t last any longer -in that crowd than an icicle in hell.” - -“The deuce!” said Elliott, disconcerted. “I’m very anxious to get to -Cincinnati, anyway, and the fact is I’m sort of strapped. I thought -I’d be all right when I got to the river.” - -“Tried freights?” - -“Yes, and they don’t suit me too well.” - -“I’m going to St. Louis,” said the stranger, after a pause. “I’m going -to leave early in the morning, and I expect to get there in three -hours, and I don’t intend that it shall cost me a cent. To tell the -truth, I’m in something of the same fix as you are.” - -“How’ll you manage it?” Elliott inquired, with much curiosity. - -“Ride a passenger-train, on the top. I’ve just come from Seattle that -way,” he continued, after a meditative pause. “There’s no great amount -of fun in it, but I did it in six days.” - -“The deuce!” exclaimed Elliott again. “Do you mean to say that you -came all the way from Seattle in six days, beating passenger-trains?” - -“Every inch of it. I was in a hurry, and I’m in a hurry yet. Mostly I -rode the top, and sometimes the blind, and once I tried the trucks, -but next time I’ll walk first. The beast of a conductor found that I -was there, and poured ashes down between the cars.” - -“You’re a genius,” said Elliott, looking at the audacious traveller -with admiration. “That’s beyond me.” - -“Not a bit of it. I don’t do this sort of thing professionally, nor -you, either. Excuse me, I can see that you’re no more a bum than I am. -But a man ought to be able to do anything,—beat the hobo at his own -game if he’s driven to it. I simply had to get to Nashville, and I -hadn’t the money for a ticket. I did it, or I’ve nearly done it, and -you could have done it, too. - -“Of course you could,” he went on, as Elliott looked doubtful. “Come -with me in the morning, if you’re game, and I’ll guarantee to land you -in St. Louis by eight o’clock.” - -“Oh, I’m game all right,” cried Elliott, “if you’re sure I won’t be -troubling you.” - -“Didn’t I say that I’m going, anyway. I mighty seldom let anybody -trouble me. Now look here: the fast train from Omaha gets here a -little before three, daylight. You meet me at the passenger depot at, -say, three o’clock. Better get as much sleep as you can before that, -for you sure won’t get any after it.” - -He glanced at Elliott with a smile that had the effect of a challenge. -“Oh, I won’t back out,” Elliott assured him. “I’ll be there, sharp on -time. So long, till morning.” - -Elliott went away a little puzzled by his new comrade, and not -altogether satisfied. The young fellow—he did not know his -name—evidently was in possession of an almost infernal degree of -energy. Plainly he was no “bum,” as he had said; it was equally plain -that he was, undeniably, not quite a gentleman; and, plainest of all, -that he was a man of much experience of the world and ability to take -care of himself in it. Elliott could not quite place him. He was a -little like a professional gambler down on his luck. It was quite -possible that he was a high-class crook escaping from the scene of his -latest exploit, and it was this consideration that roused Elliott’s -uneasiness. It was bad enough, he thought, to be obliged to dodge yard -watchmen and railway detectives without risking arrest for another -man’s safe-cracking. - -Still, the association would last only for a few hours, and he went to -bed that night resolved to carry the agreement through. He was staying -at a cheap hotel, and there were times when he would have regarded its -appointments as impossible, but it struck him just now that he had -never known before what luxury was. It was four nights since he had -slept in a bed, and, as he stretched himself luxuriously between the -sheets, the idea of getting up at three o’clock seemed a fantastic -impossibility. - -A thundering at the door made it real, however. He had left orders at -the desk to be called, and he pulled his watch from under the pillow. -There was no mistake; it was three o’clock, and, shivering and still -sleepy, he got up and lighted the gas. - -Near the waterfront he found an all-night lunchroom, and hot coffee -and a sandwich effected a miraculous mental change. With increasing -cheerfulness he went on toward the depot through the deserted streets. -It was still dark and the stars were shining, but there was an -aromatic freshness in the air, and low in the east a tinge of faintest -pallor. - -He found his prospective fellow traveller lounging about the -triangular walk that surrounds the depot, and saluted him with a -flourish of his pipestem. An almost imperceptible grayness was -beginning to fill the air, and sparrows chirped in the blackened trees -about the station. - -“She’ll be along in a few minutes,” said the expert, referring to the -train. “By the way, my name’s Bennett; what’ll I call you? Any old -name’ll do.” - -“Call me Elliott. That happens to be my real name, anyway. But say, -won’t it be a little too light soon for us to sit up in plain sight on -the roof of that train?” - -“A little. But she doesn’t make any stop all the way to St. Louis, I -believe, and of course the people on board can’t see us. It’s easier -to climb up there by daylight, too, and—there she whistles.” - -The few early passengers hurried out upon the platform. In half a -minute the train rolled into the station, its windows closely -curtained and the headlight glaring through the gray dawn. The -passengers went aboard; there was no demand for tickets at the car -steps, and Bennett and Elliott went straight to the smoker, where they -sat quietly till the train started again, after the briefest delay. - -“Now come along,” muttered Bennett, and Elliott followed him across -the platforms and through the three day coaches full of dishevelled, -dozing passengers. The Pullmans came next, and luckily the juncture -was not vestibuled. - -Without the slightest hesitation Bennett climbed upon the horizontal -brake-wheel, and put his hands on the roof of the sleeper. Then with a -vigorous spring he went up, crept to a more level portion of the roof, -and beckoned Elliott to follow him. - -The train was now running fast, and the violent oscillation of the -cars made the feat look even more difficult and dangerous than it was. -But the idea that the conductor might come through and find him there -stimulated Elliott amazingly, and he clambered nervously upon the -wheel, and got his hands upon the grimy roof that was heaving like a -boat on a stormy sea. Securing a firm hold, he attempted to spring up, -but a violent lurch at that moment flung him aside, and he was left -dangling perilously till Bennett scrambled to his relief and by -strenuous efforts hauled him up to more security. - -A furious blast of smoke and cinders struck his face. Before him -writhed the dark, reptilian back of the train, ending in the -locomotive, that was just then wreathed in a vivid glare from the -opened firebox. From that view-point the engine seemed to leap and -struggle like a frenzied horse, and all the cars plunged, rolling, -till it appeared miraculous that they did not leave the rails. Even as -he lay flat on the roof of the bucking car it was not easy to avoid -being pitched sideways. The cinders came in suffocating blasts with -the force of sleet, and presently, following Bennett’s example, -Elliott turned about with his head to the rear and lay with his face -buried in his arms. The roar of the air and of the train made speech -out of the question. - -The position had its discomforts, but it seemed an excellent strategic -one. An hour went by, and it was now quite light. The fast express -continued to devour the miles with undiminished speed. - -Little sleeping villages flashed by, as Elliott saw occasionally when -he ventured to raise his head Two hours; they were within forty miles -of St. Louis, when the train unexpectedly slackened speed and came to -a stop. - -Elliott jumped to the conclusion that it had stopped for the sole -purpose of putting him off, but he observed immediately that it was to -take water. He glanced at Bennett, who was looking about with an air -of disgusted surprise. - -There were men about the little station, and the trespassers flattened -themselves upon the car roof, hoping to escape notice, but some one -must have seen them. A gold-laced brakeman presently thrust his head -up from below, mounted upon the brake-wheel. - -“Come now, get down out of that!” he commanded. - -His conductor was looking on, and there was no possibility of coming -to an arrangement with him. Elliott slid down to the platform, much -crestfallen, followed by Bennett. Cinders fell in showers from their -clothing as they moved, and a number of passengers watched them with -unsympathetic curiosity as they walked away. - -“By thunder, I hate to be ditched like that!” muttered Bennett, -glancing savagely about. “Let’s try the blind baggage, if there is -one. We’ll beat this train yet.” - -Elliott doubted the wisdom of this second attempt, but they went -forward, looking for the little platform, usually “blind,” or -doorless, which is to be found at the front end of most baggage-cars. -It was there; none of the crew appeared to be looking that way, and -they scrambled aboard just as the train started. - -It was a much more comfortable position than the top, for there were -iron rails to cling to and a platform to sit upon, while they were out -of the way of smoke and cinders. Immediately before them rose the -black iron hulk of the tender and it was not long before the fireman -discovered them as he shovelled coal, but he made no hostile -demonstration beyond playfully shaking his fist. - -“We’re safe for St. Louis now. There won’t be another stop, and nobody -can see us or get at us while she’s moving,” remarked Bennett, with -satisfaction. He glanced over his shoulder, turned and looked again, -and his face suddenly fell. After a moment’s sober stare, he burst -into a fit of laughter. - -“Done again! This ‘blind’ isn’t blind at all,” he cried, pointing to -the car-end. - -It was hideously true. There was a narrow door which they had not -observed in the end of the car. Just then it was closed fast enough, -but there was no telling when it might be opened. - -“Anyhow,” said Elliott, plucking up courage, “we’re making nearly -forty miles an hour, and every minute they leave us in peace means -almost another mile gained.” - -“Yes, and there’s just a chance that nobody opens this door. I think -that if we stop again we’d better give this train up.” - -They watched the door anxiously as the minutes and the miles went -past, but it remained unopened. The little stations flew -past—Clarksville, Annada, Winfield. It was not far to West Alton, and -that was practically St. Louis. - -The end was almost in sight. But the door opened suddenly, and the -brakeman they had before encountered came out. - -“I told you fellows to get off half an hour ago.” - -“Now, look here,” said Bennett, persuasively. “We’re not doing this -train any harm at all. We’re not going inside; we’ll stay right here, -and we’ll jump the minute she slows for Alton. We’re no hobos. We’re -straight enough, only we’re playing in hard luck just now and we’ve -simply got to stay on this train. Now you go away, and just fancy you -never saw us, and you’ll be doing us a good turn.” - -The brakeman reflected a moment, looked at them with an expression -more of sorrow than of anger, and returned to the car without saying -anything. - -“He’s all right,” said Elliott. - -“And every minute means a mile,” Bennett added. - -But in less than a mile the brakeman returned, and the conductor came -with him. - -“Come now, get off!” commanded the chief, crisply. - -“We’ll get off if we have to,” said Bennett. “You must slow up for us, -though.” - -“Slow hell!” returned the conductor. “I’ve lost time enough with you -bums. Hit the gravel, now!” - -Elliott glanced down. The gravel was sliding past with such rapidity -that the roadway looked smooth as a slate. - -“Great heavens, man, you wouldn’t throw us off with the train going a -mile a minute. It would be sure murder,” pleaded Bennett. - -“I’ve no time to talk. Jump, or I’ll throw you off.” The conductor -advanced menacingly, with the brakeman at his shoulder. - -Bennett lifted his arm with a gesture that the conductor mistook for -aggression. He whipped out his revolver and thrust it in Bennett’s -face. The adventurer, startled, stepped quickly back, clean off the -platform, and vanished. - -A wave of rage choked Elliott’s throat, and he barely restrained -himself from flying at the throats of his uniformed tormentors. - -“Now you’ve done it,” he said, finding speech with difficulty. “You’ve -killed the man.” - -The conductor, looking conscience-stricken and anxious, leaned far out -and gazed back, and then pulled the bell-cord. - -“He needn’t have jumped. I wouldn’t have thrown him off; never did -such a thing in my life,” he muttered. - -“He didn’t jump. You assaulted him, when all he wanted was to get off -quietly. You pulled your gun on him, when neither of us was armed. -It’s murder, and you’ll be shown what that means.” - -Elliott felt that he had the moral supremacy. The conductor made no -reply, and the train came to a stop. - -“You’d better go back and look after your partner,” he said, in a -subdued manner. “I’m mighty sorry. I’d never have hurt him if he’d -stayed quiet. It’s only a couple of miles to Alton,” he added, as -Elliott jumped down, “and you can take him into St. Louis all right, -if he isn’t hurt bad. I’d wait and take you in myself if I wasn’t -eighteen minutes late already.” - -The train was moving ahead again before Elliott had reached its rear. -He ran as fast as he could, and while still a great way off he was -relieved to see Bennett sitting up among the weeds near the fence -where he had been pitched by the fall. He was leaning on his arms and -spitting blood profusely. - -“Are you hurt much, old man? I thought you’d be killed!” cried -Elliott, hurrying up. - -Bennett looked at him in a daze. His face was terribly cut and bruised -with the gravel, and the blood had made a sort of paste with the -smoke-dust on his cheeks. His clothes were rent into great tatters. - -“Don’t wait for me,” he muttered, thickly. “Go ahead. Don’t miss the -train. I’m—all right.” - -But his head drooped helplessly, and he sank down. The ditch was full -of running water, and Elliott brought his hat full and bathed the -wounded man’s head and washed off the blood and grime. Bennett revived -at this, and looked up more intelligently. - -Elliott examined him cursorily. His right arm was certainly broken, -and something appeared wrong with the shoulder-joint; it looked as if -it might be dislocated. There must be a rib broken as well, for -Bennett complained of intense pain in his chest, and continued to spit -blood. - -“That conductor certainly ditched us, didn’t he?” he murmured. “Did he -throw you off too? I was a fool not to see that door.” - -None of the injuries appeared fatal, or even very serious, with proper -medical care, and Elliott felt sure that the right thing was to get -his comrade into St. Louis and the hospital at once. But Bennett was -quite incapable of walking, and Elliott was not less unable to carry -him. He became feverish and semidelirious again; he talked vaguely of -war and shipwreck, but in his lucid moments he still adjured Elliott -to leave him. - -Elliott remained beside him, though with increasing anxiety. After an -hour or two, however, he was relieved by the appearance of a gang of -section workers with their hand-car, to whom Elliott explained the -situation without reserve. They were sympathetic, and carried both -Elliott and Bennett into Alton on their car, where they waited for two -hours for a train to St. Louis. - -Bennett was got into the smoker with some difficulty; he remained -almost unconscious all the way, and at the Union Station in St. Louis -there was more difficulty. Elliott was afraid to call a policeman and -ask for the ambulance, lest admission should be refused on the ground -that Bennett was an outsider. So, half-supporting and half-carrying -the injured man, he got him out of the station and a few yards along -the street. It was impossible to do more. A policeman came up, and -Elliott briefly explained that this man was badly hurt and would have -to go to the hospital at once. Then he hurried off, lest any questions -should be asked. - - - - - CHAPTER IV. THE FATE OF THE TREASURE SHIP - - -Elliott watched the arrival of the ambulance from a distance, for he -felt certain that he looked a thorough tramp, with his rough dress and -the clinging coal grime of the railroad. Yet he did not wish to leave -the city without at least seeing Bennett again, and hearing the -medical account of his condition; and he was surprised to find how -much liking he felt for this light-hearted and resourceful vagabond -whom he had known for less than twenty-four hours. - -Though his money was running dangerously short, he lodged himself at a -not wholly respectable hotel on Market Street, and next morning he -made what improvement he could in his appearance, and went to the -hospital. Visitors, it turned out, were not admitted that day, but he -was told that his friend was in a very bad way indeed. The young -doctor in white duck evidently did not consider his shabby-looking -inquirer as capable of comprehending technical details, and seemed -himself incapable of furnishing any other, but Elliott gathered that -Bennett had been found to have two or three ribs broken and his -shoulder dislocated, besides a broken arm and more or less severe -lacerations of the lungs. He was quite conscious, however, and the -doctor said that, if he grew no worse, it was likely that Elliott -would be permitted to see him on the next visiting day, which would be -the morrow. - -At three o’clock the next afternoon, therefore, Elliott applied, and -was admitted without objection. A wearied-looking nurse led him -through the ward, where there seemed a visitor for every cot. Bennett, -she said, appeared a little better. His temperature had gone down and -he seemed to be recovering well from the shock, but Elliott was -startled at the pallor of the face upon the pillow. The brown tan -looked like yellow paint upon white paper, but Bennett greeted him -cheerfully and seemed nervously anxious to talk. - -“Sit down here. This is mighty good of you,” he said. “I never got -ditched like that before. Did that conductor throw you off, too?” - -“Oh, no. He stopped the train for me to get off. His conscience was -hurting him, I think.” - -“Well, it’s going to cost the road something, I think. But you’ve -stayed by me like a brother,” Bennett went on, deliberatively, “and -I’ll make it up to you if I can, and I think I can. There’s something -I want to tell you about. It’s no small thing, and it’ll take an hour -or two, so you’ll have to come to-morrow afternoon, and bring a -note-book. We can’t talk with all these visitors swarming around. -They’ll let you in; I’ve fixed it up with the doctor. They said that -it was liable to kill me, but I told them that it was a matter of life -and death, and they gave in. It is a life and death business, too, for -a couple of dozen men have been killed in it already, and there’s a -round million, at least, in solid gold. What do you think of that?” - -Elliott thought that his comrade was becoming delirious again, but he -did not say so. The nurse, who had been keeping an eye on him, came -up. - -“I really think you’ve talked long enough,” she said, with a sweetness -that had the force of a command. - -“All right,” said Elliott, getting up. “I’ll see you to-morrow, then. -Good-bye.” - -“Will it really be all right, nurse, for me to have a long talk with -him to-morrow?” he inquired, as soon as he was out of Bennett’s -hearing. - -“No, it isn’t all right, but the house surgeon has given his consent. -I think it’s decidedly dangerous, but your friend said it was an -absolute matter of life and death, and it may do him good to get it -off his mind. Come, since you’ve got permission; and if it seems to -excite him too much, I’ll send you away.” - -Elliott felt a good deal of curiosity as to the secret which was to be -confided to him, for which a couple of dozen men had died already. -Probably it had something to do with Bennett’s rapid journey across -the continent, and Elliott felt some apprehension that he might be -about to be made the involuntary accessory to some large and unlawful -exploit. - -His curiosity made him willing to take chances, however, and he waited -impatiently for the next afternoon. When it came, he found Bennett -propped up on three pillows and looking better. The nurse said that he -really was better, that all would probably go well, but that it would -be slow work, and this slowness seemed to irritate the patient most of -all. - -“First,” he said, when the nurse was out of earshot, “I’ll tell you -what you must do for me. You’ll have to go out of your way to do it, -but, unless I’m mistaken, you’ll find it worth your while. I want you -to go to Nashville, Tennessee, and I want you to go at once. It’s a -case for hurry. I can’t write now, and I daren’t telegraph. Maybe the -men I want aren’t there, but you can find where they’re gone. Will you -go?” - -Elliott hesitated half a moment, wishing he knew what was coming next, -but he promised—with a mental reservation. - -“That’s all right, then,” said Bennett, “because I know you’re -square,”—a remark which touched Elliott’s conscience. “It’s quite a -tale that I want you to carry to them, and I’ll have to cut it as -short as I can, and you’d better make notes as I go along, for every -detail is important. - -“I told you how I’d crossed the country from the Coast. I had come as -straight as I could from South Africa. I wasn’t in any army there; -that’s not in my line. It don’t matter what I was doing; I was just -fishing around in the troubled waters. - -“Anyway, I had a big deal on that was going to make or break me, and -it broke me. I was in Lorenzo Marques then, and it was the most -God-awful spot I ever struck. It was full of all the scum of the war, -every sort of ruffians and beats, Portuguese and Dutch and Boers and -British deserters, and gamblers and mule-drivers from America, all -rowing and knifing each other, and it was blazing hot and they had -fever there, too. - -“I’ve seen a good many wicked places, but I never went against -anything like that, and I wanted to get back to America. The American -consul wouldn’t do anything for me at all, but I saw an American -steamer out in the river,—the _Clara McClay_ of Philadelphia,—loading -for the East Coast and then Antwerp. She was the rottenest sort of -tramp, but she caught my eye because she was the only American ship I -ever saw in those waters. So I went aboard and asked the mate to sign -me on as a deck-hand to Antwerp, and he just kicked me over the side. - -“Anyway, I was determined to go on that ship, mate or no mate, for -there wasn’t anything else going my way, and I expected to die of -fever if I waited. So I went aboard again the night before she sailed, -and they were getting in cargo by lantern light, and there was such a -stir on the decks that nobody paid any attention to me. I got below, -and dropped through the hatch into the forehold. They had pretty -nearly finished loading by that time, and pretty soon they put the -hatches on. It was as dark as Egypt then, and hotter than Henry, with -an awful smell, but after awhile I went to sleep, and when I woke up -she was at sea, and rolling heavily. - -“When I thought she must be good and clear of land, I started to go up -and report myself, but when I’d stumbled around in the dark for -awhile, I found that the bales and crates were piled up so that I -couldn’t get near the hatch. So I sat down and thought it over. I had -a quart bottle of water with me, but nothing to eat, and I began to be -horribly hungry. - -“When I’d been there ten or twelve hours, I guess, I tried moving some -of the crates to get to the hatchway, but they were too heavy. But -while I was lighting matches to see where I was, I saw a lot of cases -just alike, and all marked with the stencil of a Chicago brand of -corned beef, and it looked like home. I thought it must be a -providential interposition, for I was pretty near starving, and it -struck me that I might rip one of the boards off, get out a can or -two, and nail the case up again. - -“The cases were big and heavy, and they were all screwed up and banded -with sheet iron, but I had regularly got it into my head that I was -going to get into one of them, and at last I did burst a hole. When I -stuck my hand in, it nearly broke my heart. There wasn’t anything -there at all, so far as I could make out, but a lot of dry grass. - -“It occurred to me that this must be another commissary fraud, but -when I tried to move the case it seemed heavy as lead. I poked my arm -down into the grass and rummaged around. At last I struck something -hard and square down near the middle, but it didn’t feel like a meat -tin. I worked it out, and lit a match. It was a gold brick, and it -must have weighed ten pounds.” - -“Solid, real gold?” cried Elliott, with a sudden memory of Salt Lake. - -“The real thing. It didn’t take me long to gut that box, and I dug out -nineteen more bricks, nearly fifty thousand dollars’ worth, I -reckoned. No wonder it was heavy. Then I looked over the rest of the -cases, and they all looked just alike, and there were twenty-three of -them, so I figured up that there must be considerably over a million -in those boxes.” - -“Stolen from the Pretoria treasury!” Elliott exclaimed. - -“I believe it was, but what made you think of that?” - -“Never mind; I’ll tell you later. Go on.” - -“Well, I felt pretty certain that this gold came from the Rand, of -course, but who it belonged to, or why he had shipped it on this old -tramp steamer was what I couldn’t make out. Of course, if he _was_ -going to ship it on this boat, it was easy to understand that it might -be safer to pass it as corned beef, but the whole thing looked queer -and crooked to me. - -“At first I was fairly off my head at the find, but when I came to -think it over, it looked like there wasn’t anything in it for me, -after all. I couldn’t walk off with those bricks. They might be -government stuff, and I didn’t want any trouble with Secret Service -men. So after awhile I packed up the box again as well as I could and -fixed the lid. - -“I thought I’d lie low for awhile, and I stayed in that black hole -till I’d drunk all my bottle of water and was pretty near ready to eat -my boots. When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I raised a devil of a -racket, yelling, and hammering on the deck overhead with a piece of -plank, and I kept this up, off and on, for half a day before they -hauled the hatch off and took me out. It was dark night, with a fresh -wind, and the ship rolling, and I never smelt anything so good as that -open air. - -“The first thing they did was to drag me before that same mate for -judgment, and he cursed me till he was blue. He’d have murdered me if -he’d recognized me, and he nearly did anyway, for he sent me down to -the stoke-hold. - -“I couldn’t stand that. I’d had a touch of fever in Durban, and I was -weak with hunger anyway, and the first thing I knew I was tumbling in -a heap on the coal. Somebody threw a bucket of water over me, but it -was no use. I couldn’t stagger, and they took me up and made a -deck-hand of me. - -“This suited me all right, and the fresh air soon fixed me up. I -wouldn’t have minded the job at all, but for the mate. The crew were -afraid of him as death. His name was Burke, Jim Burke; he was a big -Irishman, with a fist like a ham, and he made that ship a hell. He -nearly killed a man the first night I was on deck, and I’ve got some -of his marks on me yet. The captain wasn’t so bad, but I didn’t see so -much of him. I was in the mate’s watch,—worse luck! - -“But all this time I didn’t forget that gold below, and I was trying -to see through the mystery. But I couldn’t make any sense of it till I -saw the passengers we had. - -“There were four of them that I saw. Three of them I spotted at once -as from Pretoria. I’d seen the office-holding Boer often enough to -recognize him, and they always talked among themselves in the Taal. -Two of them were native Boers, I was sure, but the third looked like -some sort of German. Besides these fellows, there was a middle-aged -Englishman that looked like a missionary, and I heard something of -another man who never showed himself, but I didn’t pay any attention -to any one but the Boers. - -“Because when I saw them, I saw through the whole thing. The war was -going well for the Boers just then, but there were plenty of them wise -enough to see that they couldn’t fight England to a finish, and -crooked enough to try to feather their nests while they had a chance. -Pretoria was all disorganized with the war-fever; half the government -was at the front, and I’d heard of the careless ways they handled the -treasury at the best of times.” - -“You were right,” said Elliott. “I happen to know something about it.” -And he imparted to Bennett the story of the official plundering which -the mine superintendent in the Rand had written to him. - -“Well, I thought that must have been it,” went on Bennett. “I wondered -if the officers of the steamer knew the gold was there, but I didn’t -think so. I was sure they didn’t,—not if the Boer was as ‘slim’ as he -ought to be. I wouldn’t have trusted a box of cigars to that crowd. - -“But all this detective work didn’t put me any forwarder, and the mate -kept me from meditating too much. The boat was the worst old scow I -ever saw. Twelve knots was about her best speed, and then we always -expected the propeller to drop off, and she rolled like an empty -barrel when there was the slightest sea. I’m no sailor, and that was -the first time I’d ever bunked with the crew, but I could see easy -enough that she was rotten. - -“For the first few days the weather was pretty fair, but on the fourth -after I came on deck it turned rougher. There wasn’t very much wind, -but a heavy swell, as if there was a big gale somewhere out in the -Indian Ocean. It was the sixth day from port, and I reckoned that we -must be getting pretty well through the Mozambique Channel. - -“It came on cloudy that evening, and when I came on deck it was dark -as pitch and raining hard. There was a light, cool south wind with a -tremendous black swell. The big oily rollers hoisted her so that the -screw was racing half the time, and every little while she’d take it -green, with an awful crash. Everybody was in oilskins but me, and I -hadn’t any. - -“The mate was on the bridge, and it wasn’t long before we found out -that he was drunk, and he must have had a bottle up there with him, -for he kept getting drunker. Once in awhile he’d come down and raise -Cain, and then go back and curse us from up there till everybody was -in a blue fright. We didn’t know what he might do with the ship, and -the watch below came on deck without being called. - -“Just a little before six bells struck, I heard a yell, and I found -that he’d pitched the helmsman clear off the bridge, and taken the -wheel himself. That part of the channel is full of reefs and islands, -and we heard surf in about half an hour,—straight ahead the breakers -sounded, and the mate appeared to be running her dead on them. - -“Three or four of the men made a rush for the bridge to take the wheel -away from him, and some one went down to call the captain. But before -the mutineers were half-way up the iron ladder, the mate had his -pistol out, and shot the top man through the head, and he knocked down -the rest as he fell. By this time we could see the surf, spouting tall -and white like geysers, but it was too dark to see the land. The -captain came on deck, half-dressed and looking wild, but he was hardly -up when the mate gave a whoop, rang for full speed ahead, and ran her -square on the reef. - -“She struck with a bang that seemed to smash everything on board. I -was pitched half the length of the deck, it seemed to me, and next -minute a big roller picked her up and lifted her over the reef and set -her down hard, with another terrific bump. - -“When we’d picked ourselves up we couldn’t see anything at all, and -the spray was flying over us in bucketfuls. The steam was blowing off, -all the lights had gone out, and the old boat was lying almost on her -port rails, shaking like a leaf at every big sea. Still there didn’t -seem to be much danger of her breaking up right away, and we settled -down after awhile to wait for daylight. - -“When the light came back we saw that we were up against a long, -barren island, about half a mile across I should think, with one rocky -hill, and no trees, no natives, nor anything. We were stuck on a bunch -of reefs nearly a mile from shore, and we were half-full of water. -When we looked her over, we found that she was cracking in two, so we -got ready to launch the boats. Two of the men were missing, and we -never saw any more of the captain; we supposed that they had been -pitched overboard when she struck. The mate had been knocked off the -bridge and appeared to be hurt. He was lying groaning against the -deckhouse, but nobody paid any attention to him. - -“We got one of the starboard boats into the water with six men in it, -and it was smashed and swamped against the side before it was fairly -afloat. We threw lines and things, but only fished out one of the -crew. I got into the second boat myself, and we managed to fend off -from the ship, and got on pretty well till we came close to the shore. -It was a bad landing-place when there was any sea running, but we -tried it, and piled her all up in the surf. I got tossed on shore -somehow,—I don’t know how,—but presently I found myself half in the -water and half out, with a bleeding crack in my head, and most of the -skin scraped off my arms and legs. I looked for the rest of the boat’s -crew, but none of them came ashore—alive, that is. - -“In about half an hour I saw them put another boat overboard, but this -one shared the fate of the first, and I don’t think anybody was saved. -There was still too much sea running to launch boats. - -“I lay around on the shingle in a sort of silly state from the crack -on my head, waiting for some one to come and find me, but nobody came. -About noon, I guess, I saw another boat skimming round the corner of -the island with a sail set, and four or five men in her. I tried to -signal her, but she went out of sight, and that was the last I saw of -any of the people of the _Clara McClay_. - -“Everybody seemed to be off the ship, and it looked like I was the -only one to get to the island. That night the wind and sea got up -tremendously; the spray flew clean over the island, and I got up on -the hill to keep from being washed off. In the morning I saw that the -ship had cracked right open and broken in two, with her stern sticking -on the rocks and the bow part slipping forward into the lagoon. All -sorts of things were cast ashore that day,—but, say, there isn’t -anything in the Robinson Crusoe business. There was about fifty tons -of wreckage and cargo scattered over the beach, but I couldn’t do -anything with wood and hardware, and I had all I could do to find grub -enough for a square meal. Later I found more.” - -“Did any of the gold cases come ashore?” asked Elliott. - -“Oh, no. They were too heavy. But in a day or so, when the weather had -gone down, I rafted myself out to the wreck on some spars. But the -forward half of the ship was sunk in about eight fathoms; it just -showed above the surface, and I couldn’t get at the hold. The stern -part was out of water and I rummaged around for something to eat, but -everything was spoiled by the salt water. - -“Well, I was on that blessed island for ten days, living mostly on -salt pork and London gin, for that was about all I could find that -wasn’t spoiled by the sun or the water. It was furiously hot, and the -only fresh water I had was a big pool of rainwater, that was drying up -every day. Twice I saw steamer smokes to the northwest, and I knew -that I was away out of the track of navigation, so at last I went to -work and built a raft out of driftwood, and loaded all my gin and pork -and fresh water on board. I rigged up a sail, and even if I wasn’t -picked up I felt pretty sure that I could fetch the Madagascar coast, -anyway. - -“But I drifted around for six days. There was a strong current and a -breeze, sometimes both going the same way and sometimes not, and I -don’t know exactly where they carried me, but eventually an English -mail-steamer sighted me and picked me up. She was going to Sydney, so -I must have floated away up to the northeast of Madagascar. I told -them that the _Clara McClay_ had foundered at sea, gone down in deep -water, so as to put her completely beyond investigation, and I thought -I felt my fingers on those gold bricks. - -“When we got to Sydney, I shipped on a Pacific Mail boat for the -United States, and, as I’ve told you, I struck out at once for -Nashville to pick up the rest of my party, for I knew that they were -there during the latter part of the winter, and should be there yet. - -“You see we always acted together, and, besides, this was too big a -game for me to play alone. It would take a regular naval expedition -and a lot of capital to fish up all that yellow stuff, but if I could -locate the three men I was after I knew we could rustle the expenses -somehow. We’ve been through some big deals together, mostly in Mexico -and Honduras, where there’s always devilment and disturbances. -Well—that’s all. I can’t go to Nashville now, but this thing can’t -wait. Some one will be back after that gold if there was any one else -saved from the _Clara McClay_.” - -“The question is, who does this gold belong to?” said Elliott. - -“It doesn’t belong to anybody. It was stolen, in the first place, from -the Transvaal Republic. Well, there isn’t any Transvaal Republic any -more. Besides, it’s treasure-trove—sunk on the high seas. Don’t worry -about that, but listen to me. I don’t know where that island is, but I -think I know more than any one else alive, and you can surely locate -it from what I’ve told you. You’ll go to Nashville, and tell the boys -just the story I’ve told you. They’ll take you in on it, of course, -and they’ll do the square thing by me, same as if I was with them.” - -Bennett stopped, looking both exhausted and excited, and he fixed his -unnaturally bright eyes upon Elliott with a penetrating gaze. - -“I’ll go,” said Elliott, “certainly. Who are your men, and where’ll I -find them?” - -“Likely at the best hotel in Nashville. Inquire at the Arcadia saloon, -or the Crackerjack. If they’re not in Nashville you can find out where -they’re gone, and follow them up. Their names—better note them down: -John Henninger (he’s an Englishman), C. W. Hawke, Will Sullivan. Hand -me that writing-tablet. - -“What’s your first name?” continued Bennett, and he scrawled painfully -with his left hand: - - “Introducing Mr. Wingate Elliott. He’s all right. - - L. R. Bennett.” - -“There’s a package of evidence under my pillow,” continued the wounded -adventurer. “Pull it out.” - -Elliott extracted a crumpled envelope, bulging with a small, hard -lump. This proved to be something wrapped in many folds of soft -tissue-paper, and when unrolled Elliott saw a bright, pyramid-shaped -bit of yellow metal, about the size of a beechnut. - -Elliott walked away from the hospital feeling a little giddy and -light-headed at the sudden prospect of fortune. The enterprise was a -legitimate one. The gold had belonged to the Transvaal Government, and -that government was no longer in existence. Who was its owner? Was it -Great Britain? But Elliott was a Democrat and a strong supporter of -the independence of the South African Republics, and he could not -acknowledge any claim of the Crown. At any rate, the finders of the -treasure-ship would be entitled to a heavy salvage. - -But at the memory of Margaret he stopped short on the street in -perplexity. What would she say? This was the very sort of adventure -that he had promised to avoid. If she were there; if she knew all, and -if she told him to drop it, he felt a conviction that he would drop it -without hesitation. But yet—he walked on again—this was a legitimate -salving enterprise, and he had never met one which offered so fair -rewards. - -The gold was really no man’s. No one knew where it was; and with a -chilling shock he recollected that he did not himself know where it -was. But no matter; it could surely be located; and in default of any -better method, they could visit every island in the Mozambique Channel -till they found the bones of the unlucky _Clara McClay_. - -So he wrote to Margaret that night, saying that he was going to -Nashville, on the prospect of a _legitimate_—he underlined legitimate; -the word pleased him—enterprise which promised money. - -Naturally he said nothing about his finances; he promised to write -again as soon as anything definite had happened, and hinted that he -might meet her at the depot when she arrived in Baltimore. When the -letter was posted he felt more at ease with himself. Almost penniless -as he was, his imagination already rioted among millions, and with the -yellow gleam flickering before his eyes he prepared to beat his way to -Nashville. - - - - - CHAPTER V. THE ACE OF DIAMONDS - - -Elliott reached Nashville in two days, being lucky enough to catch a -fast freight-train which carried him half the distance in a single -night. For the last twenty miles he travelled on a passenger-train, -paying his fare, to preclude the danger of arrest as he came into the -great railway yards, and the consciousness of safety in the face of -the police seemed to him almost an odd and unfamiliar sensation. - -It was early in the forenoon when he walked up the incline of the -ill-paved street that reminded him of St. Joseph. He inquired for the -Arcadia saloon; he found it on Cherry Street, and within the -swing-doors it was cool and dusky, sparkling with glass and marble, -and vibrating with electric fans. Two or three prosperous-looking -Southerners were sipping through straws from glasses crowned with -green leaves and crushed fruit, but Elliott contented himself with a -glass of beer, and asked the bartender if he knew Mr. Henninger, or -where he was to be found. - -“Sure,” said the mixer of drinks. “He’s been stoppin’ at the Hotel -Orleans, and I reckon you’ll find him there now. If he ain’t there no -more, ask for Mr. Hawke, and he’ll likely know something about him.” - -Hawke was one of the names Bennett had mentioned, and this small -circumstance, or perhaps it was the beer, raised Elliott’s hopes. He -finished his glass, and went straight to the Hotel Orleans, which was -three blocks away. - -The great lobby was full of leather-covered sofas and easy-chairs, and -floored with handsome mosaic, and perhaps a score of men were smoking -or reading newspapers. It was clearly a good hotel, and Bennett had -said that his friends would be at the best hotel in town. Elliott -looked over the register, and, not immediately finding the names he -sought, he spoke to the clerk, who did not take the trouble to conceal -his contempt of Elliott’s disreputable appearance. - -“Yes,” he said, curtly. “That’s Mr. Henninger sitting by the window, -in the gray suit.” - -Elliott walked over to the man indicated. He was young, probably not -over thirty-five, dark-faced, strong-featured, with a suspicion of -military severity and exactitude. His costume of hard gray tweed had -evidently come from the hands of a first-rate tailor, and he was -smoking a cigar which he never removed from his teeth, and looking -through the great window with an air of reserved boredom. Elliott, as -he approached, felt himself suddenly covered with a glance that was -like the muzzle of a revolver. - -“Mr. Henninger?” he inquired, pausing. - -The man in gray looked him over for another instant, and then replied, -frigidly: - -“Yes.” - -Elliott, who did not particularly care for this reception, handed him -Bennett’s note without another word. Henninger took it, and as he -opened it leisurely Elliott was struck by the shape of the hand that -held it. It was the hand of a pianist, a hand that had never worked, -white, long-fingered, thin, but looking all nerves and muscles, as if -strung with steel wires. - -Henninger read the note, and examined it very closely. Then he glanced -up at Elliott again with a slight smile, and held out his hand. - -“I’m glad to meet you, Mr. Elliott,” he said. “Sit down. What’s the -matter with Bennett, and where is he?” - -“He’s in the hospital in St. Louis. He got rather badly hurt—by a -train.” There were half a dozen men within earshot, and Elliott -thought it best to avoid details. “He was coming here to see you when -it happened. It seems there’s something doing.” - -He looked at Henninger, who returned the glance impenetrably. - -“I’ve a message from him, but it’ll take some time to tell it. He also -wished Mr. Hawke and Mr. Sullivan to hear it.” - -Henninger turned to a man sitting close to him, who had been listening -with all his ears, much to Elliott’s annoyance. - -“This is Mr. Hawke.” - -Hawke was a younger man than the Englishman, shorter, lighter, with a -pleasant face and a light boyish moustache, like Elliott’s own. But -there were the same hard lines about the mouth and nostrils, and the -same level, aggressive gaze that Henninger possessed, so that at -moments the unlike faces took on a curious similarity. - -“Sullivan isn’t in the city,” said Henninger, “but we know where he -is. It’s all the same thing. But if we’re going to talk we’d better go -up to my room.” - -It was a good room, at the front on the second floor, and as Elliott -surveyed its luxurious appointments he felt sure that the party must -be in funds, after all. A bell-boy presently came in with a tray, a -bottle, a siphon of seltzer, and a box of cigars. - -In the midst of this unexpected luxury, and feeling conscious of his -own shabbiness, Elliott told the story of the wreck of the _Clara -McClay_, making reference to his notes, and at the end producing the -little prism of gold that Bennett had cut from the brick. At the first -mention of the treasure Elliott caught an involuntary glance flashed -between Henninger and Hawke that was like the discharge of an electric -spark, but neither made any comment till the tale was finished. - -Then Henninger poured out a spoonful of whiskey, brimmed up the -tumbler from the fizzing siphon, and sipped it slowly, meditatively. - -“Confound it, what do you think?” burst out Hawke, who was wriggling -with excitement. - -“I think we’d better telegraph to Sullivan,” replied Henninger, -putting down the glass. “And I’ll wire Bennett, too—without any -reflection upon your veracity, Elliott. Now, look here,” he went on, -with increasing animation, “as it looks now, there may be a good thing -in this, but first of all we don’t know anything. We don’t know where -that wreck is. Seems to me that Bennett might have taken some kind of -bearings. Now some one who knows more than we do may get there first.” - -“It looks to me as if that mate was up to something,” said Hawke. - -“Very much so. The question is, whether he got away. Bennett said he -was hurt. If he did escape, you can bet he’ll come back, and there’s -been a lot of time lost already.” - -“Well, now,” Elliott interrupted, “if you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave -you. I’m afraid I’m embarrassing your councils, and I’ve got a long -road to Baltimore.” - -“But, hold on!” ejaculated Hawke. “You’re in this. Ain’t he, -Henninger?” - -Henninger looked at Elliott again, with the same acutely penetrative -scrutiny as at first, a manner not unfriendly, but coldly analytical. - -“Yes, he’s in it, if he cares to come in,” he answered, finally. “But -you must understand, Elliott, what sort of a game this is. Everything -may be all right, or not. It looks to me now as if those meat-cases -didn’t belong much to anybody, but that much gold never goes -unclaimed, and somebody is liable to turn up and want them. We may -have to fight for it; they may bring in international law, though -we’ve a right to salvage, anyway. There’s a risk of imprisonment; -there’s risk of sudden death. We’re not men that deal in the crooked; -straight work, with big profits and big chances, is our line, but -we’re not men to stick at little things either, when there’s a heavy -stake up.” - -“It seems to me that you are trying to frighten me,” said Elliott. - -“I am trying to frighten you. If I can do it, we don’t want you in -this at all, or you’ll queer the whole thing. But if you’re game, if -you understand what it is, and still want to come in—why, come along, -and we’ll be glad to have you.” - -“Thanks,” replied Elliott. “I was just waiting to be formally invited. -I’ve figured up all the risks already, and in my present financial -state I’d take bigger risks for less money. And that reminds me that I -must tell you that I can’t put any capital in this scheme. I’m down to -my last dollar, and I’ve broken that.” - -Hawke began to laugh. “We’re all in the same boat, then. There’s my -pile,” pulling out two or three bills, and a little silver. “I’ll bet -it all that Henninger can’t match it.” - -“But,” Elliott exclaimed, “this room!—and those cigars were perfectos! -Do you find Southern hospitality go that length?” - -“Not at all; it’s pure business. Universal credit is what has made the -prosperity of this great country. We came; we looked respectable, and -we stayed; and as long as we keep up appearances, and spend a little -over the bar, they’re shy about presenting any bills too forcibly. It -cuts both ways, though, for we’d have been glad to get away from here -a long time ago, if we could. But we can’t take away our baggage, and -without our trunks we couldn’t keep up appearances anywhere; without -our appearances, we might as well be hoboes, or honest workmen. A man -is no better than his coat. I’m not hitting at you,” he added, -quickly. - -“Oh, I don’t mind,” Elliott assured him. “I’ve got a trunk full of -respectable raiment in Baltimore. I’ll send for it.” He laughed too, -as the piquancy of the situation struck him. “I don’t know how I’ll -get them out of the express office, though. What dazes me is how you -fellows expect to chase this million with the capital we have. We -need, goodness knows how many hundreds, or thousands. How will you -raise it—borrow it? Work for it?” - -“Hardly. Play for it,” replied Hawke, without hesitation. - -It was consistent. As Elliott looked at him, he was struck by the fact -that these men never did anything but gamble, staking their fortunes -or their lives with equal alacrity, generally with the odds against -them, and generally with the dice loaded against them also. He had -done the same thing himself, and he had promised Margaret to do it no -more. But— - -“We’d been thinking of something of the sort before you came,” Hawke -was saying, “so as to finish things one way or the other, and this -decides it. We’ll need a lot of money—oh, a devil of a lot. We’ll have -to fit out a regular expedition, hire a small ship of some sort, get -diving apparatus, and all sorts of things. Five thousand dollars is -the very minimum. Let’s see how much we can raise.” - -He emptied his pockets on the table; there was a little more than -fifteen dollars. Henninger, after much rummaging, produced eleven. - -“I’ve got ninety-five cents,” said Elliott. “Let it go into the pot, -too.” - -“Good,” said Hawke. “Total, twenty-seven dollars. Now, that’s a sum -that’s of no use to any man, much less to three men. Just on general -principles we might as well get rid of it, and get the agony over. But -see what we can do with it; we’ll just go over to Nolan’s place, at -the Crackerjack, and put up our little twenty-seven on the wheel, till -we make or break. Why, I knew a man in Louisville who started with a -dollar and broke the game. I didn’t see it myself.” - -“None of us ever saw those things done,” remarked Henninger, who was -listening with a dry smile. “But you’re right, I believe. It’s the -only chance I see, for Sullivan can’t possibly do anything for us in -time. Who’s to do the playing? Who’s got the luck?” - -“I haven’t,” said Elliott, with conviction. “I tried it in St. Joe.” - -Henninger opened a small grip and took out an elaborate morocco case. -There were rows of ivory poker chips in it, and a dainty, gilt-edged -pack of playing-cards. - -“A few poker hands will show who’s in the vein,” he remarked, and -began to deal the cards. - -From the first Hawke was by far the most fortunate, and when, upon the -last deal, he held a spade flush without drawing it was apparent to -all three that he was unconsciously in the enjoyment of a special vein -of luck. With a pleasing degree of confidence in this act of -divination, they handed over to him the entire capital of the -syndicate. Hawke looked a little overwhelmed at the responsibility. - -“We’ll go up with you, but we’ll leave you absolutely to yourself,” -said Henninger. “Play just as the fancy takes you, but play high and -fast. Hit the luck before it turns; that’s the only chance of making -anything.” - -The Crackerjack’s first floor was occupied by a marble and silver -saloon, and above this was the gambling establishment,—an immense, -cool, heavily curtained room, with shaded electric lamps above the -tables that glittered with their devices in red and black and green -and nickel. Overhead a dozen electric fans vibrated noiselessly. - -Eight or ten players were standing in a semicircle at the big “crap” -table. Each man, as he rolled the dice, snapped his fingers violently -in the air and emitted an explosive “Hah!” which is supposed to aid in -turning the winning number. Behind the table stood the suave employees -of the game. They did not snap their fingers; they made no -ejaculations—but they won. - -The roulette-table was deserted; it is not a favourite game in the -South, and the croupier was lazily spinning the ball to keep up an -appearance of activity. Hawke bought twenty-seven dollars’ worth of -white checks and settled himself on a stool, while Henninger and -Elliott walked over to the crap-table and stood looking on, to leave -him entirely open to the promptings of his “vein.” - -They heard the sharp, diminuendo whirr of the ball begin, but they did -not look around. “Whirr-rr! click!” - -“That’s the four of hearts and the second twelve,” said the croupier. - -Elliott was astonished to hear a card thus called instead of a number, -but Henninger explained in an undertone that, to evade the laws of -Tennessee, all the roulette-wheels in the State are marked with the -spots of the four suits of cards, up to the nines, instead of the -usual thirty-six numbers. This naïve accommodation is supposed to -satisfy at once the demands of justice and of sport, though it does -not always save a gaming-house from being raided by the police. - -They did not know whether Hawke had lost or won, and they did not -look, but they heard the rattle of checks, and the whirr recommence. -For a time that seemed endless—perhaps it was half an hour—this went -on. Henninger and Elliott tried to interest themselves in the fortunes -of the crap game. They glanced over the newspapers. They walked -restlessly about, smoked, peeped through the curtains at the street, -tried to talk, and fell silent at every sound from the table where -destiny was being spun out for them at the gay roulette. - -Evidently Hawke was not yet wiped out. Was he winning? They did not -know; they dared not look, listening to the whiz and click of the -wheel, and dreading to see the player return suddenly empty-handed. - -Finally the strain became unendurable, and Henninger turned and walked -straight to the roulette-table. Elliott followed him, and bit off a -half-uttered ejaculation as he caught sight of the board. - -Hawke was sitting behind a rampart of stacked checks. He had trebled -and quadrupled his capital already; his stakes were scattered all over -the board, and just as they came up he won again with a heavy play on -the second dozen numbers. There was a high flush on his cheeks; he had -laid down his cigar and forgotten it, but his face was full of the -bright certainty of the gambler who is playing in luck and knows it; -and he placed his stakes about the layout as unhesitatingly as a -system-player. - -Henninger and Elliott carefully avoided meeting his eye, and watched -the spinning wheel. Click. - -“The five of spades,” announced the croupier. - -The number had been “hit all round.” There were checks on it full, and -more on its corners, and Hawke built another tier of his rampart with -the proceeds of the coup. - -The atmosphere of the gaming-room is telepathic. The “crap-shooters” -becoming aware that a “killing” was in progress, abandoned their game -and came to look on in silence, some of them following Hawke’s -ventures with small stakes. - -And still the player won. He cleared the rack of white checks and -bought blue ones. With the change he was met by a reverse, and lost -heavily for some minutes, but the luck returned, and he seemed in a -fair way to empty the rack again. - -Again and again the numbers were squarely hit. When he lost he boldly -doubled his stake; he plunged recklessly on the most improbable -combinations, and the ivory ball, as if he had magnetized it, spun -unerringly to the chosen number. Round the table no one spoke but the -croupier; no one looked at anything but the board and the gaudy wheel. -Even those spectators who had no stake in the game were as breathless -as the rest. It was the sort of luck by which games are broken, and -presently the proprietor, Nolan himself, came up and watched the -struggle, silent and grave, with a slightly worried expression. - -There was another ten minutes of ill-fortune which sadly reduced -Hawke’s store. Henninger, anxiously following the play, wondered if -the run of luck were not exhausted—whether it would not be better to -leave off. But as yet scarcely four hundred dollars had been won. Win -or lose, the game must go on. - -Whiz—whirr-r-r—click! “It’s the ace of diamonds,” said the croupier, -leaning over the wheel. There was a dollar check upon the winning -square, and the croupier paid out the due thirty-five upon it. These -Hawke nonchalantly allowed to remain upon the number that had just -come up. - -Round spun the ball for endless seconds. Click! - -“The ace of diamonds repeats,” declared the croupier. The big stake -had won. The croupier was working for a salary, and the result made no -difference to him, but even he was affected by the pervading -excitement, and he showed it as he set himself to count out the stacks -of red checks necessary to pay the heavy winning—a little less than -thirteen hundred dollars. - -With hands that trembled a little Hawke raked the checks together into -a solid mass upon the same number once more, and the ball recommenced -its swift circling. It was the highest play that the Crackerjack had -ever seen. Nolan put out his hand as if to refuse the stake, and then -withdrew it again, but his eyes puckered under his hat-brim. The -spectators gathered closer round; a third appearance of the ace of -diamonds would win almost fifty thousand dollars, and would -undoubtedly break the bank, if not bankrupt the proprietor. - -“Great heavens! he’s pyramiding on the ace of diamonds again!” gasped -Elliott, in a fright, as soon as he understood; and Henninger turned a -savage face upon him for silence. But Hawke had caught the whisper. He -glanced up irresolutely, and, before the ball had slackened speed, he -swept three-fourths of the checks across the table and upon the simple -red. The rest, about three hundred dollars’ worth, remained upon the -lucky ace of diamonds. - -But he had changed his play, and every gambler at the table mentally -predicted disaster from the ill-omened act. A man who had been about -to follow his stake with a five-dollar bill, thrust it back into his -pocket. - -Round spun the ball, circling the slow-moving wheel. Every eye was -fixed upon the little ivory sphere that rolled and rolled as if it -would never stop—then gradually lost momentum, gravitated toward the -bottom, and tripped on a barrier. The iron-nerved Henninger bit his -cigar in two, and it dropped unnoticed from his lips. The ball jumped, -rolled across an arc of the wheel, and dropped into a compartment with -a click. - -“By God, he hits it!” ejaculated a looker-on, irrepressibly. - -“You win, sir. It’s the ace of diamonds for the third time!” said the -croupier, with a nervous smile, glancing at Nolan. “I’m afraid you’ll -have to cash in some of those checks. I haven’t enough left to pay the -bet.” - -Hawke nodded, but Henninger leaned forward. - -“No more,” he said, in an undertone to Hawke. “We’re through. We’ve -got what we needed, and more. We’re a syndicate, Charley,” he -explained to the croupier, “and Mr. Hawke was playing for us all.” - -“Shut up!” said Hawke, in a feverish whisper. “This is the chance of -our lives. It’s the chance of our lives, I tell you. I’m going to -wreck this game before I get up.” - -“No, you’re not. You’re going to stop right now,” responded Henninger. -“Pull yourself together, man; you’re drunk. Tell him you want to cash -in.” - -The two men glared at each other for a moment, the one flushed, the -other deadly pale, and Hawke slowly came to himself. - -“I guess you’re right, old man,” with a nervous giggle. “How much have -I won? Charley, I reckon I’ll cash in.” - -On this last and greatest coup a thousand dollars had been won on the -colour, and a trifle over ten thousand on the number, and besides -this, Hawke had several hundred dollars’ worth of checks from his -previous winnings. Nolan himself counted the checks, stacking them -back in place. The total amount was eleven thousand, seven hundred and -thirty-eight dollars. - -Nolan took the loss like a veteran book-maker. “I’ll have to send out -to the bank, gentlemen,” he said. “While you’re waiting, give the boy -your orders.” - -“No, this is on us,” said Henninger. “Everybody take something on our -luck. Nothing but Pommery’ll moisten it.” - -Nolan submitted gracefully. “I won’t deny that you do owe me a drink. -I’ve been in this business, here and on the turf, about all my life, -but I never did see anything like that run. I was glad when Mr. Hawke -cashed in—and that’s no lie.” - -Hawke was growing as pale as he had been red, and the champagne glass -trembled in his fingers. The two who had not played, suffering no -reaction, were scarcely able to subdue their spirits to a -sportsmanlike decorum. The money came, and Nolan counted it out in a -thick green package—the weapon that was to win the drowned million as -the twenty-seven dollars had won this. And yet, as Elliott looked at -the hundred-dollar bills he felt a sudden shock of belated terror. It -was only then that he realized what loss would have meant,—and it had -been such a near thing! - - - - - CHAPTER VI. THE MYSTERY OF THE MATE - - -Elliott awoke next morning with an uneasy head and a feverish taste in -his mouth, and looked vaguely around the unfamiliar hotel chamber -without being able to recall how he had come there. It was only -yesterday that he had been riding surreptitiously in box cars. But as -his brain cleared he remembered the splendid and joyous dinner that -had closed the day before, a misty glitter of glass and silver and -delicious wines and cigars. That recalled his new friends and his -message to them, and then the whole transformation of his fortunes -flashed back upon him—the miraculous winning at roulette, the treasure -trail; and, wide awake instantly, he jumped out of bed in a flush of -excitement. - -He found a new suit of clothes on a chair, which he now recollected -having bought ready-made on the previous afternoon. They were very -good clothes and fitted well, and in the trousers pocket he found a -thick wad of bills. Each of the partners had taken a hundred dollars, -and the rest of the money was in a sealed package in the hotel safe. - -In the dining-room he found Henninger and Hawke finishing breakfast, -though it was nearly eleven o’clock. Hawke looked wearied and nervous, -with the rags of yesterday’s excitement still clinging about him, but -Henninger was as fresh, as neat, and as unmoved as ever. A few other -late breakfasters at the other end of the room looked at the trio with -curiosity, for the report of their coup, greatly magnified in the -telling, had gone abroad; and the negro waiter served them with -exaggerated respect. - -In the lobby Elliott bought himself the best cigar he had ever smoked, -luxuriating in the novel sense of riches, which was like a sudden -relief from pain. He had never felt so wealthy in his life. The money -had come with such incredible ease; the sum looked almost -inexhaustible; and beyond it was the great treasure to be fished up -from the African seas. - -There were too many people in the lobby for private conversation, and -they returned to Henninger’s room. - -“First of all, I vote we send Bennett a hundred dollars. I kept it out -for him when I sealed the money last night,” said Henninger. “I’ll -wire him what we’ve done, and then I’ll wire Sullivan. I don’t know -that we told you, Elliott, where Sullivan is. He’s in Washington, -attending to a case for us. We were all in South America last winter, -and we’ve got a claim against the Venezuelan government for damages -and confiscation of property, and so forth, for two millions.” - -“Two what?” exclaimed Elliott. - -“Two millions. We thought we might get a few thousands out of it. -Anyway, Sullivan has been trying to get our case taken up at -Washington, but we’ll drop all that and tell him to meet us in New -York.” - -“I’d like very much to look up that Madagascar channel on the largest -map there is,” Hawke broke in, “and see what we can make of it.” - -He voiced a common desire. Every one wanted to look at it, and they -went down to the Public Library and obtained a gigantic atlas. They -propped it up on a table and put their heads together over the map of -East Africa. The steamer route from Delagoa Bay to Zanzibar and Suez -was marked in red, and at the northern end of the Mozambique Channel -it passed through a tangle of little islands and reefs. - -“Comoro, Mohilla, Mayotta, St. Lazarus Bank,” read Hawke, under his -breath. “It must be one of these.” - -They all gazed at the archipelago, two thumbs’ width on the paper that -represented a hundred sea leagues. Somewhere among these islands lay -the treasure that had cost the lives of a ship’s company already, and -as he stared at the brown and yellow spots, Elliott saw in excited -imagination the barren islands on the sunny tropical ocean, and the -spray spouting high over the reefs where the sea-birds wheeled about -the iron skeleton of the _Clara McClay_. There was the end of the -rainbow; there was the golden magnet that had already stirred the -passions of men on the other side of the world; and as he looked at -the lettered surface of the map, he felt a sudden cold prescience of -tragedy. - -“Glorioso, Farquahar!” murmured Hawke. “They surely couldn’t have run -so far out of their course as that. St. Lazarus is my choice, and, if -I’m right, we’ll make it St. Dives.” - -“We don’t know enough yet to make this any use,” said Henninger, -suddenly. “Let’s get out.” - -The sight of the map and its hundreds of miles of islands and seas did -in fact bring the problem into concrete reality, and forcibly -emphasized the difficulties. They all felt somewhat downcast and -vaguely disappointed, but, as they were going down the steps, Elliott -had an inspiration. - -“It occurs to me,” he said, “that if anybody escaped in the boats, -they must have been picked up somewhere at sea. In that case, the fact -is likely to be reported in some newspaper, isn’t it?” - -“What have we been thinking of?” exclaimed Henninger. “You’re right, -of course. The New York _Herald_ should have it, as she was an -American ship. We’ll go back and look through the files of the -_Herald_, if they have them, for the last few months.” - -The papers were bound up by months, and each man took a volume and sat -down to run through the shipping news. Elliott finished his without -finding anything, and obtained another file. He was half through this -when Hawke tiptoed over to him. - -“Here’s where Bennett appears,” he whispered. - -It was a four-line telegram from Sydney, stating that a seaman named -Bennett had been picked up from a raft in the Indian Ocean, reporting -that the American steamer _Clara McClay_ had foundered with all hands -in the Mozambique Channel. - -There was nothing new in this, but it seemed somehow encouraging, and -while Elliott was reading it, Henninger came over to them. His eyes -were sparkling, and he looked as if holding some strong emotion in -check. He laid down his file before them, and put his finger on a -paragraph, dated more than a fortnight earlier than the despatch from -Sydney. - - “Bombay, March 19. - - “The Italian steamer _Andrea Sforzia_, arriving yesterday - from Cape Town and Durban, reports having picked up on the - 10th about one hundred miles N. E. of Cape Amber, a boat - containing First Mate Burke, of the steamer _Clara - McClay_, of Philadelphia. He stated that his ship - foundered in deep water in the Mozambique Channel by - reason of heavy weather and shifting of cargo, and - believes himself to be the only survivor. He was almost - unconscious, and nearly dead of thirst when rescued. - - “The _Clara McClay_ was an iron steamer of 2,500 tons, - built at Greenock in 1869, and has been for some years - engaged in the East and West African coast trade. She was - owned by S. Jacobs and Son, of Philadelphia, and commanded - by Captain Elihu Cox.” - -The two men read this item, and Elliott, glancing up, saw his -mystification reflected on Hawke’s face. What new development did it -indicate that Bennett and the mate should have told the same falsehood -about the sinking of the _Clara McClay_, and certainly without -collusion? Henninger meanwhile was carefully copying the paragraph -into a note-book, and when he had finished, he gathered up the papers, -returned them to the librarian’s desk, and led the way out of the -building. - -“We’ve got a line on it at last,” he said, when they were in the open -air, and there was a keen eagerness in his usually impassive voice. - -“It’s clear that the mate was saved, but it don’t help us to find the -island, so far as I can see,” Hawke objected. - -“Oh, the island—confound it!” as they came into the crowds of Church -Street. “Let’s go somewhere where we can talk.” And he shut his mouth -and did not open it again till they were placed comfortably in a small -German café, which happened to be almost empty. - -“You don’t seem to understand,” he then resumed. “The mate lied,—said -the ship sunk in deep water, didn’t he? He told the same story as -Bennett. Why? For the same reason. He must have known the bullion was -there, after all. He took chances on being the only survivor of the -wreck, and he wanted to choke off any inquiry. There’s never any -search for a wreck that goes down in a hundred fathoms.” - -“But there were other survivors,” said Elliott. “There were others in -that boat with him when Bennett saw them sailing away. That must have -been the mate’s boat, and what became of the others?” - -“Ah, yes,—what?” replied Henninger, grimly. “He was alone when he was -picked up.” - -There was a moment’s silence at this sudden apparition of the crimson -thread in the tangle. - -“This is the way I see the story,” said Henninger. “That mate—what’s -his name—Burke?—knew the gold was on board. How he found out, I don’t -know. Whether he accidentally ran the steamer out of her course that -night, or whether he piled her up intentionally, I don’t know, either. -He may have done it by reason of his jag, or he may have tanked up to -give himself courage to carry it through. I suspect it was the latter. -Anyhow, when she was smashed, he saw his chance, for he reckoned that -his was the only boat to get away safe. He had several men with him, -but they seem to pass out of the story. He was picked up, carried to -Bombay; he lied about the wreck. - -“What does he do next? Why, of course he gets ready to go back to -Zanzibar or some such port and hire a craft to go to look for his -wreck. If he thinks he’s safe, he may lie low for awhile; or, if he -hasn’t the capital for the thing, he will have to hunt up some -ruffians to finance him. But if he thinks that he’s in any danger of -being forestalled, he’ll make haste. If by bad luck he reads of -Bennett’s being picked up, it’ll galvanize him; and as like as not -he’s sailing up the channel this minute, while we’re sitting here -drinking lager, doing nothing—because we don’t know anything!” - -“Yes, but how are we going to find out anything,—where the wreck is, -for example?” demanded Elliott. - -“Why, from this same mate, Burke, if we can catch him. He’s the source -of knowledge. He knows very well where it is; if he didn’t, he -wouldn’t have taken the trouble to lie about it. First of all, we’ve -got to catch that mate, and when we’ve got him, we’ll induce him to -tell us what he knows. Do you remember how Casal used to interrogate -prisoners in Venezuela, Hawke? We’ve got to get on his trail right -away, and meanwhile see that he doesn’t collar the cash before we know -it.” - -“It’ll be a long, wide trail,” Hawke remarked. - -“No. There’s only one hemisphere for Burke, and only one spot in it, -and that’s somewhere between Madagascar and the African coast. He -won’t go far from that if he can help it, and wherever he goes he’s -bound to come back. And he’ll have to come in his own ship, for there -aren’t any steamers plying to his island. He’ll have to hire or buy a -small craft on the East African coast, and there are only three ports -that will serve.” - -Henninger sipped his beer, and meditated in silence for a little. - -“My idea would be something like this. Three of us will go to South -Africa at once; we pick up Sullivan in New York, of course. One of us -will post himself in each of those three ports,—Lorenzo Marques, -Mozambique, and Zanzibar, watching every boat that comes in, every -stranger that lands, and everything that goes on along the waterfront. -If Burke turns up, our man will have to use his own judgment as to how -to get hold of him,—bribe him or kidnap him, or anything, but keep him -there at any cost till the rest of us can come. Meanwhile the fourth -one of us will go to Bombay, and try to find out where Burke went and -what he did. He might possibly be there yet; anyway, he must have left -some trace at the consulate or the shipping-offices.” - -“At any rate,” said Elliott, “it appears fairly certain that no one -knows anything about this ton of yellow metal but ourselves and the -mate, Burke. Then there’s no danger of outside interference.” - -“It’s a fair race to Madagascar!” Hawke exclaimed. - -“It’s a race,” said Henninger, shrugging his shoulders, “but I don’t -know about its fairness. We’re heavily handicapped at the start. Why -we’re wasting time here, I don’t know.” He stood up suddenly, -frowning, impatient. - -“Sit down and finish your cigar,” Hawke advised him. “There’s no train -for New York till nine o’clock to-night.” - -“Yes, and there’s no fast steamer for South African ports at all. -We’ll do best to sail for England, I fancy. Then the man who is going -to India can take the P. and O., and the rest of us will go by the -Union Castle Line to the Cape.” - -“But which of us is going to India?” Elliott inquired. - -“I don’t know.” Henninger glanced calculatingly at his companions. -“I’d like to go to Zanzibar myself, if you don’t mind, because I -suspect that it’s the dangerous point; and Sullivan should take -Lorenzo Marques, because he was there once, and he knows something of -the place. The shadowing lies between you two, as far as I can see.” - -“I’ll match you for it,” proposed Hawke. - -Elliott pulled out a quarter and spun it on the table, turning up -tail. Hawke followed, and lost. - -“I’m to be the tracker, then,” said Elliott. “I’m afraid I’ll make a -poor sleuth. I wish Bennett had given us a description of the mate, -for he has probably changed his name.” - -“So do I. I’d like to have time to run up to St. Louis and talk it -over with Bennett. I’d like a lot of things that we haven’t time for. -Bennett can’t write with a broken arm, so there’s no use in writing to -him for more details. But, as a matter of fact, I don’t really expect -that you’ll come up with this man Burke at all. What I do hope is that -you’ll find out where he went when he left Bombay, and if by chance he -hired any kind of vessel anywhere, and in general what he was doing. -We’ve got to get our information from him, there’s no doubt of that.” - -“And what about Bennett?” Elliott inquired, after a pause. “How is he -to come into the game?” - -“The chances are that the game will be played before his arm’s -mended,” said Henninger. “We’ll send him a hundred, as I suggested,—or -let’s make it three hundred,—and of course he’ll share and share alike -with the rest of us. I think I’d better write him to go to San -Francisco as soon as he’s able to travel, if he hasn’t heard from us -in the meantime, and hold himself in readiness there to join us. -Frisco’ll be the most convenient port, and he can cable us his address -as soon as he gets there.” - -“And I reckon we’d better telegraph to New York for staterooms,” Hawke -suggested. “The east-bound steamers are always crowded at this time of -year.” - -They sent the despatch at once to Cook’s agency, asking simply to get -to Liverpool or Southampton at the earliest date possible, expense -being no consideration. At the same time Henninger both telegraphed -and wrote to Bennett; and Elliott wired to the express company in -Baltimore to have his trunk placed in storage for him till his return. - -He had gone too far now upon the treasure trail to turn back, and -indeed he would not have turned back if he could. It was really the -romance of the adventure that fascinated him, though he did not think -so. He told himself that it was a legitimate enterprise—he clung to -the phrase—with a reasonable expectation of large profits. But in no -manner could he see his way to write a complete explanation of his -plans to Margaret; if he could have talked to her, he thought, it -would be easy. He composed a letter to her that afternoon, however, in -which he remarked negligently that he was going to India on a -commission for other parties, with all expenses paid, and would -probably not be back to America before autumn. At the end of the -letter, forgetting his precaution, he hinted of a vast fortune which -was scarcely out of reach,—an imprudence which he afterward regretted. - -The party left Nashville that night, and, as the train rolled out of -range of the last electric lights, Hawke drew a long breath. - -“I did begin to think we were never going to get away from that town,” -he sighed. “It looked like we were in pawn to the Hotel Orleans for -the rest of our lives.” - -Henninger smiled queerly. “Since we are fairly away, I don’t mind -telling you,” he said, “that the manager and I discussed the matter -last week. I explained that we were waiting for a large remittance -that was overdue, but it would certainly be here in a day or two; we -expected it by every mail. He gave it four days to arrive,—then we’d -leave or be thrown out. Elliott turned up on the last day.” - - - - - CHAPTER VII. THE INDISCRETION OF HENNINGER - - -There was no time to spare in New York. The party went straight to an -obscure but remarkably comfortable hotel near Washington Square, which -Hawke recommended, and here they found Sullivan waiting for them. He -had come up from Washington upon receiving his telegram, without -knowing definitely what the projected enterprise was to be. - -Sullivan was apparently a trifle older than Hawke, and unusually -good-looking. He was smooth-shaven, rather thin-faced, and he -exhibited in a marked degree that mingling of icy self-possession and -electrical alacrity that has come to be a sort of typical New York -manner. He was very accurately dressed, and wore a gold pince-nez. He -looked straight at you with a penetrating and impenetrable eye; he -spoke with an unusually distinct articulation. He seemed to be -perpetually regarding the world with a faint smile that was compounded -of superiority, indifference, and cynicism. In reality, his mental -attitude was far from either cynicism or indifference, but it took -some time to find this out. His general appearance vaguely suggested -that he might be a very rapidly rising young lawyer, and Elliott -discovered later that he had, in fact, been trained for the bar. - -“And now, what’s this new scheme you’re working me into?” he inquired. - -“We’ll tell you about it after dinner,” said Henninger. “Did you make -any progress in that Venezuela claim?” - -It appeared that Sullivan had not even been able to get what he called -“a look in” for his money, but it did not matter much, for in any -event the claim would have been temporarily dropped. They dined that -night at the Hotel Martin, and when the waiter had gone away and left -them in their private room with coffee and liqueurs, Elliott told -Bennett’s story for the second time. Sullivan listened, smoking -continual cigarettes, but as the plot developed, the same predatory -glimmer stole into his eyes that Elliott had seen on the faces of his -other companions. - -“It’s a big thing, certainly. It may prove a good thing,” he commented -coolly, when Elliott had done. “It’s one of the sportiest things, too, -that I ever heard of, but it strikes me that the odds are all on this -mate you speak of. He knows where the wreck is, and we don’t.” - -“Exactly; and he’s going to tell us. We’re bound to intercept him -before he gets back to the island, and if we can get ourselves posted -all along the East African coast before he arrives, the thing is -almost safe. But, until then, a day’s delay may cost us the whole -pile. We had a stroke of luck in Nashville, and another in getting -berths on the first Atlantic steamer, and if the luck only holds—” - -“When do we sail?” - -“On the _New York_, at noon to-morrow, for Southampton.” - -The next morning was breathlessly full of affairs. There was money to -be changed, infinite small purchases to be made, a thousand last -arrangements, and they had just time to snatch a hasty mouthful at a -quick-lunch counter, and get down to the dock as the first whistle -blew. The great wharf-shed was crowded, swarming and bustling about -the great black wall of the steamer’s side, which appeared to be -actually in the shed. The lofty, resonant roof echoed with the voices -and with the roll of incessant express-wagons bringing late baggage. -The place was full of the harbour smell of rotting sea-water, and the -noise, the movement, the excitement, increased as the last moments -arrived and passed. - -The decks were finally cleared of the non-passengers, and a dozen men -tailed on the gangplank. A swarm of tugs were nosing about the -monster’s bows. The last whistle coughed and roared, and the gap -between the side and the wharf suddenly widened. - -Elliott leaned over the rail with delight, as she swung out into the -river, and presently began to move under her own steam. The sierra -outline of New York developed into coherence, towering and prodigious, -jetting swift breaths of smoke and steam into the dazzling sky. An -irradiation of furious vitality surrounded it. This was the city of -the treasure-finders, of the searchers of easy millions, of the -buccaneers. It was the place above all others where the strong is most -absolutely the master, and the weak most utterly the slave; where the -struggle, not so much for existence as for luxury, reaches its most -terrific phase, evolving a new and formidable human type. Elliott felt -himself of a sudden strangely in harmony with this city which he was -leaving. The spoils to the victors—and he was going to be victorious! - -The ship was full, almost to her capacity, and the four gold-seekers -were scattered about in different staterooms. Elliott’s room had two -occupants already, and the sofa was made up for him at night. The -saloon tables were crowded on the first day; then it turned cold, with -a light, choppy sea and rain that lasted till the Grand Banks were -passed, and half of the passengers became invisible. With the promise -of fair weather they began to reappear, and on the third day the decks -were lined with a double row of steamer-chairs. - -During the first days of the voyage Elliott fell into greater intimacy -with Henninger than with any of the others of the party. It did not -take the older and more experienced man to learn all he desired to -know about Elliott’s vicissitudes. Elliott told it without any -hesitation, making a humourous tale of it, and, though Henninger -offered no confidences in return, he told Elliott curious adventures, -which, if they were true, argued an extraordinary experience of -unusual and not always respectable courses of life. - -Although he never became autobiographical, Elliott gathered by -snatches that he must have been at one time, in some capacity, -connected with the British army. Later he had certainly been an -officer in the Peruvian army, but his manner of quitting either -service did not appear. It was with South and Central America that he -appeared to have had most to do. He had mentioned cargoes of munitions -of war run ashore by night for revolutionary forces, fusilades of -blindfolded men against church walls, and more peaceful quests for -concessions of various sorts, involving a good deal of the peculiarly -shady politics that distinguish Spanish America. Henninger drew no -morals; he seemed to have taken life very much as he found it, and -Elliott suspected that he had been no more scrupulous than his -antagonists. At the same time he had a definite though singularly -upside down morality of his own, which continually inspired Elliott -with astonishment, sometimes with admiration, and occasionally with -disgust. - -There was a good deal of whist played in the smoking-room of an -evening, and a little poker, but with low stakes. It was on the -preceding passage of this very ship that a noble English lord had been -robbed of four thousand pounds at the latter game, and the incident -was remembered. Elliott was no expert at poker, and his friends showed -no inclination for play, so that, though they were in the smoking-room -every evening, it was seldom that any of them touched a card. - -On the evening of the fifth day out Elliott was sitting quietly in a -corner of the smoking-room with a novel and a cigar. It was nearly -eleven o’clock, and the low, luxurious room was full of men, and -growing very smoky in spite of the open ports. Sullivan had gone to -his stateroom; Henninger and Hawke were somewhere about, but Elliott -was paying no attention to anything that went on. - -Suddenly he became aware of a lowering of the conversation at his end -of the room. He glanced up; everybody was looking curiously in one -direction. In the focus of gaze stood Henninger, engaged in what -seemed a violent, but low-toned altercation with a short, fat, but -extraordinarily dignified blond little man who had been prominent -among the whist players. One of the ship’s officers stood by, looking -annoyed and judicial. Henninger was white to the lips, and his black -eyes snapped, though he was saying little in reply to the fat man’s -energetic discourse. No one else approached the group, but every one -observed it with interest. - -All at once, upon some remark of Henninger’s, the little man hit out -with closed fist, but the officer caught his arm. Elliott glanced -round and saw Hawke looking on with considerable coolness, but, -conceiving it his duty to stand by his friend, he got up and -approached the trio. - -“Go away, Elliott. This is none of your affair!” said Henninger, -sharply. - -Elliott retreated, feeling that he had made a fool of himself publicly -and gratuitously. But he was consumed with curiosity as well as -anxiety, for it struck him that this might be in some way connected -with the wrecked gold-ship. - -Presently the three men left the cabin together and the buzz of talk -broke out again. Elliott caught Hawke’s eye, and beckoned him over. - -“What was it?” he said, in an undertone. - -“I didn’t catch the first of it,” said Hawke. “I believe that little -ass accused Henninger of being a notorious card-sharper, or something -of the sort. The second mate happened to be there, and he heard their -stories, and I expect they’ve gone to the captain now.” - -The curious quality of Elliott’s regard for Henninger is sufficiently -indicated by the fact that at this information he was filled -simultaneously with indignant rage and wonder whether the thing were -true. He put the question directly to Hawke, who shrugged his -shoulders. - -“Henninger is absolutely the best poker player I ever saw,” he -replied. “He’s better even than Sullivan, and no man can be as good a -player as that without being suspected of crookedness. Of course, I -don’t know all Henninger’s adventures, but I’d stake anything that -he’s as straight as a string. He’s too thoroughbred a sport.” - -The little blond man presently returned to the smoking-room alone, but -Henninger did not reappear. Elliott waited for fifteen or twenty -minutes, and then went on deck. - -The spaces were all deserted, and the electric lights shone on empty -chairs. It was a clear night, and the big funnels loomed against the -sky, rolling out volumes of black smoke. As he walked slowly aft, he -saw a man leaning over the quarter, looking down at the boiling wake -streaked with phosphorescence. It looked like Henninger; drawing -nearer, he saw that he was not mistaken. - -“How’d it come out, old man?” inquired Elliott, sympathetically. -“Hawke and I would have backed you up if you had only let us. It’s an -outrage—” - -“Will you shut up your infernal mouth—and get away from here!” -Henninger interrupted, in a voice of such savage and suppressed fury -that Elliott was absolutely stupefied for a moment. - -Startled and offended, he turned on his heel and walked forward nearly -to the bows, and for a moment he was almost as angry as Henninger had -been. He leaned over the rail and frowned at the creaming water. -Perhaps he had been tactless,—but he could not forgive the ferocious -rebuff that his sympathy had received. But as he stood there, the cool -and calm of the mid-sea night began to work insensibly upon his -temper, and he began to take a more lenient view of the offence. -Glancing aft, he saw that Henninger had vanished. There was no one -anywhere in sight but the officer on the bridge and a lookout on the -forecastle-head; and no sound but the labouring beat of the -propellers. - -He remained there for some time, for he heard eight bells struck, and -the changing of the watch. Presently a hand touched his shoulder -lightly. - -“Here, old chap, smoke this,” said Henninger, thrusting a large cigar -wrapped in silver foil into his hand. “I was rude to you just now, but -you came on me at a bad moment. Forgive me, won’t you?” - -“I oughtn’t to have said anything. It wasn’t any of my business, -anyway,” said Elliott, throwing away the remains of his resentment, -for when Henninger chose to be ingratiating he was able to exercise a -singular charm. - -“I’m glad that little fool didn’t hit me,” went on Henninger, slowly. -“There would have been trouble. He isn’t such a fool, either. His -memory is excellent.” - -“You don’t mean that—really—” began Elliott, and stopped. - -“Elliott, I don’t know whether you’ve been in hard luck often enough -and hard enough to get a correct light on what I’m going to tell you. -No man knows anything about life, or human nature, or himself, till -he’s been up against it,—banged up against it, knocked down and -stepped on,—and the knowledge isn’t worth having at the price. - -“This was two years ago. I had just come up from Tampico, and I’d been -two weeks in a Mexican jail because I wouldn’t pay blackmail to the -governor’s private secretary. I had just fifty-seven dollars, I -remember, when I landed in New Orleans, but I had a good thing up my -sleeve, and I went straight up to St. Louis to see some men I knew -there and interest them in it. Two of them came back with me to New -Orleans. I was to show them the workings of the thing—it doesn’t -matter now what it was—and if they liked it, they were to put up the -capital. - -“We came down the river by boat. There’s a good deal of card-playing -on those river boats yet, though nothing to what it used to be, of -course, and we all three got into a game, along with a young sport -from Memphis, who had been flashing a big roll all over the boat. Now -I can play poker a little, and our limit was low, but I hadn’t any -luck that day. I couldn’t get anything better than two pairs, and my -pile kept going down till it reached pretty near nothing. All the -money I had in the world was on that table, and my future, too, for I -had to keep my end up with those capitalists. I was a fool to go into -the game, but I couldn’t pull out. About that time I happened to feel -a long, thin, loose splinter on the under side of the table. I don’t -think that I’d have done it but for that, but I took to holding out an -ace or two, sticking them under that splinter. I was beginning to get -my money back, when—I don’t know how it happened—the fellow at my left -suspected something, leaned over and reached under the table and -pulled out the aces. - -“They don’t shoot for that sort of thing on the river any more, but it -was nearly as bad. I got off at the next landing. All the passengers -were lined up to hoot the detected card-sharper. This fellow on board -here was one of them.” - -The brief, staccato sentences seemed to burn the speaker’s lips. -Elliott could find nothing to say, and there was a strained silence. -He could not see Henninger’s face in the dusk, but presently he gently -touched his shoulder. - -Henninger started nervously. “Let’s walk about a bit,” he proposed in -a more natural voice. “It’s too pleasant to go below.” - -They made the circumference of the decks two or three times at a -vigorous pace, and without a word spoken. - -“Oh, I don’t blame them—not a bit!” said Henninger, suddenly. “It’s -all a part of the game. We fellows are against the world at large; we -don’t give much mercy and we don’t expect any. Only—well, I don’t -know, but when I go up against these people who’ve always had plenty -of money, who’ve lived all their lives in a warmed house, all their -fat, stuffy lives, afraid of everything they don’t understand, and -understanding damned little, and getting no nearer to life than a -cabbage,—when I have to listen to those people talking honour and -morality, sometimes it sends me off my head. What do they know of it? -They haven’t blood enough for anything worse than a little respectable -cheating and lying, and they thank God they’ve always had strength to -resist temptation. They don’t know what temptation is. Let ’em get out -on the ragged edge of things, and get some of the knocks that shuffle -a man’s moralities up like a pack of cards. Something that they never -tried is to come into a strange town on a rough night, stony broke, -and see the lights shining in the windows, and not know any more than -a stray dog where you’re going to fill your belly or get out of the -rain. - -“There are worse things than that, too, for when a man gets down to -rock-bottom, he doesn’t have to keep up appearances, and he can drop -his dignity temporarily and wait for better days. But when it comes to -being broke in a town where you’re known, where you’re trying to put -through some business, sleeping at ten-cent hotels and trying to make -a square meal out of a banana, and sitting round good hotels for -respectability’s sake, and cleaning your collar with a piece of -bread,—that’s about as near hell as a man gets in this world, and he -comes to feel that he wouldn’t stick at anything to get out of it.” - -“I know,” said Elliott, retrospectively. - -“Of course, that’s all part of the game, too. If we stuck to the -beaten track, there wouldn’t be any of this trouble. But, great -heavens! could I settle down at a desk in an office and hope for a -raise of ten dollars a month if I was industrious and obliging! Or if -I went home,—but I’d suffocate in about ten days. I’ve got caught in -this sporting life, and it’s too late to get out of it, and I couldn’t -live without it, anyway. But there’s nothing in it—nothing at all. -You’ve got a good profession, Elliott, and I give it to you straight, -you’ll be wise to go back and work at it, and let this chasing easy -money alone. Hawke’s another case. It makes me sorry to see him. He’s -bright; he’s got as cold a nerve as I ever saw, and he’s young enough -to amount to something yet, but he’s fooling away his life. I expect -he made some kind of a smash at home; I don’t know; he’s as dumb as a -clam about his affairs,—and so am I generally. As for Sullivan, I -don’t care; he’s a fellow that’ll never let anything carry him where -he don’t want to go. But if it was any good talking to you and Hawke, -I’d tell you to take a fool’s advice and let grafting alone.” - -Elliott was at first amazed by this outburst, and then profoundly -moved. It was the last thing to be expected from Henninger, but his -equilibrium had been completely upset by the scene in the -smoking-room, and he had not yet regained it. - -“You’re forgetting the _Clara McClay_. You don’t propose that we give -that up, do you?” Elliott remarked. - -“I had forgotten it for a moment,” admitted Henninger. “No, we won’t -give that up; and I’ll tell you plainly, Elliott, that we’re going to -have that bullion if we have to cut throats for it. If this mate gets -there first I’ll run him down alone, but I’ll have it. This thing -seems like a sort of last chance. I’ve been playing in hard luck for a -long time, and I’ve had about as much as I can stand, and this will be -cash enough to retire on, if we can get it. Elliott, don’t you -see,”—gripping his arm,—“that we’ve simply _got_ to get to that wreck -first?” - -“We’re all just as keen as you are,” said Elliott. “You won’t find us -hanging back.” - -“Yes, I know. But you’re younger, and it don’t seem to matter so much -as it does to me,” Henninger responded in a tone of some depression, -and they made several more rounds of the deck without speaking. At -last Henninger approached the companion stairs. - -“I think I’ll go down to my bunk,” he said. “It strikes me that I’ve -been talking a lot of gallery melodrama to-night, but that affair in -the smoking-room rather got on my nerves. Don’t repeat any of all this -to the other boys. I’ve given you a lot of better advice than I was -ever able to use myself. Good night.” - -He disappeared with a smile, and Elliott went back to the rail to -smoke another cigar, filled with a painful mingling of affection and -pity for this unrestful spirit. He foresaw what he himself might be -like in ten years. Thus far, his memory held nothing worse than -misfortune, nothing of dishonour; but dishonour is apt to be the -second stage of misfortune. “Go back to work, and let this chasing -easy money alone,” Henninger had said, and he was right. It was the -advice that Margaret had given him, and that he had vowed to take. But -there was still the gold-ship, and Elliott thrilled anew with the -irrepressible sense of adventure and romance. - -Next morning Henninger had regained his customary equipoise, and -Elliott could hardly believe his recollection of last night’s -conversation. Henninger gave an account of the accusation and of his -defence very briefly to his friends. The captain, acting as arbiter, -had ordered that Henninger should refrain from playing cards for -stakes while on board, under penalty of being posted as a sharper. On -the other hand, the accuser was warned not to make his story public, -as there was no corroborative evidence of its truth. - -In spite of this caution, some word of the affair spread through the -ship, and the rest of the voyage was not pleasant. Henninger found -himself an object of suspicion; passengers were shy of speaking to -him; no one was openly rude, but the atmosphere was hostile. His three -friends stood by him, incurring thereby a share of the popular -animosity, and Henninger came and went in saloon and smoking-room, to -all appearances as undisturbed and indifferent as possible. Perhaps no -one but Elliott knew how much wrath and contempt was hidden under that -iron exterior, but every one of the four was glad when the hawsers -were looped on the Southampton docks. - -It would be two days before the first Castle liner would sail for Cape -Town, and they went over to London, where the last arrangements were -completed. Elliott was to make for Bombay with all speed, and he drew -two hundred pounds above the price of his ticket for expenses. He was -to report by cable to Henninger at Zanzibar whether he discovered -anything or not. Elliott would also be notified in case of -developments at the other end, though it was very possible that it -might be necessary for the rest to take sudden action without waiting -him to rejoin them, and in such event the plunder was to be shared -alike. - -Twenty-four hours later Elliott saw his friends aboard the big steamer -at Southampton, amid a crowd of army officers, correspondents, weeping -female relatives, Jews, and speculators, who were bound for the seat -of the still smouldering war. Elliott himself returned to London, -crossed to Paris, took the Orient Express, and was hurried across -Europe and the length of Italy to Brindisi, where he caught the -mail-steamer touching there on her way to Bombay. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII. THE MAN FROM ALABAMA - - -Elliott found the atmosphere on the big Peninsular and Oriental liner -different from anything he had ever encountered before. The ship was -full of Anglo-Indian people, army officers, civil servants, and -merchants returning to the East, and whose conversation was composed -of English slang and exotic phrases of a foreign tongue. The crew were -mostly Lascars of intolerable filthiness, and there were innumerable -Indian maids—ayahs, Elliott supposed them to be—whom he met -continually about the ship on mysterious errands of comfort to their -mistresses. There were queer dishes at dinner, where Elliott made -himself disagreeably conspicuous on the first evening by wearing a -sack coat; and the talk ran upon subjects which he had previously -encountered only in the works of Mr. Kipling. - -Most of these passengers had come on board at Southampton and had -settled so comfortably together that Elliott felt himself an intruder. -He was distinctly an “outsider;” and he found it hard to scrape -acquaintance with these healthy, well-set-up and apparently -simple-minded young Englishmen, who seemed too candid to be natural. -It was even more impossible to know how to approach the peppery -veterans, who nevertheless were seen to converse jovially enough with -folk of their own sort. He was distinctly lonely; he was almost -homesick. His mind was perplexed with the object of his voyage, of -which he felt the responsibility to a painful degree, so there were -few things in his life which he ever enjoyed less than the passage -from Brindisi to Alexandria. - -At Port Said another half-dozen passengers came on board. Elliott took -them all to be English, apparently of the tourist class, travelling -around the world on circular tickets. One of them was sent to share -Elliott’s stateroom, much to his annoyance, but the man proved to be -entirely inoffensive, a dull, respectable green-grocer with the strict -principles of his London suburb, who was taking his daughter on a long -southern sea voyage by medical advice. His sole desire was to return -to his early radishes, and he spent almost all his waking hours in -sitting dumbly beside his daughter on the after deck, a slight, pale -girl of twenty, whose incessant cough sounded as if sea air had been -prescribed too late. - -It was very hot as the steamer pushed at a snail’s pace through the -canal. The illimitable reaches of honey-coloured sand seemed to gather -up the fierce sun-rays and focus them on the ship. The awnings from -stem to stern afforded little relief, and the frilled punkahs sweeping -the saloon tables only stirred the heated air. At night the ship threw -a portentous glare ahead from the gigantic search-light furnished by -the Canal Company, and in the close staterooms it was impossible to -sleep. Many of the men walked the deck or dozed in long chairs, and at -daybreak there was an undress parade when the imperturbable Lascars -turned the hose on a couple of dozen passengers lined against the -rail. Then there was a little coolness and it was possible to think of -breakfast, before the African sun became again a flaming menace. - -It was scarcely better when they reached the Red Sea, where, however, -they were able to move at better speed. They had nearly completed this -Biblical transit, when a mirage of white-capped mountains floating -aerially upside down appeared over the red desert in the south, and -all the passengers crowded to the starboard rail to look at it. -Elliott had moved to the bow, and was staring idly at the strangely -coloured low coast, red and pink and orange, spotted with crags of -basalt as black as iron. - -“It would remind a man of Arizona, wouldn’t it?” a voice drawled -languidly at his elbow. - -Elliott wheeled, a little startled. Leaning on the rail beside him was -a young man whom he remembered as having come aboard at Port Said with -the globe-trotters. He was attired in white flannels and wore a peaked -cap, but the voice was unmistakably American, and Elliott felt certain -that it had been developed south of the Ohio River. - -“I never was in Arizona, but I’ve seen the same kind of thing in New -Mexico,” he answered. “How did you know that I had been in the -Southwest?” - -“There’s nothing but the Bad Lands that’ll give a man that far-away -pucker about the eyes,” said the other. “And anybody could pick you -out for an American among all these Britishers. We’re the only Yankees -on board, I reckon. I don’t mind calling myself a Yankee here, but I -wouldn’t at home. I’m from Alabama, sir.” - -“I thought you were from the South. I’m a Marylander myself,” replied -Elliott. - -“Is that so? I’m mighty glad to hear it. We’ll have to moisten -that—two Southerners so far from home. My name is Sevier.” - -Elliott gave his name in return, and permitted himself to be led aft. -He looked more closely at his new acquaintance as they sat down at a -table in the stuffy cubby-hole that passes for a smoking-room on the -Indian mail-steamers. Sevier was a boyish-looking fellow of perhaps -thirty, short, slight, and dark, with a small dark moustache, and a -manner that was inexpressibly candid and ingratiating. In time it -might come to seem smooth to the point of nausea; at present it -appeared offhand enough, and yet courteous—a manner of which the South -alone has preserved the secret—and Elliott in his growing loneliness -was delighted to find so agreeable a fellow traveller. - -The talk naturally fell upon Southern matters, drifted to the West and -South again to Mexico and the Gulf. Sevier seemed to display an -unusual knowledge of these localities, though Elliott was unable to -check his statements, and he explained that he had been a newspaper -correspondent in Central America for a New Orleans daily, the _Globe_. - -“The _Globe_?” exclaimed Elliott, recollecting almost forgotten names. -“Then you must know Jackson, the night editor. I used to work with him -in Denver.” - -“I’ve met him. But, you see, I was hardly ever in the office, nor in -the city, either. I always worked on the outside.” - -“The _Globe_ had a man in San Salvador last year, named Wilcox, I -think,” Elliott continued, recalling another fact. - -“Yes. I reckon he was before me. San Salvador—I sunk a heap of money -there!” - -“Mining?” - -“Yes—or not exactly actually mining. I got a concession for a sulphur -mine, and I was going to sell it in New York. It was a mighty good -mine, too. There would have been dollars in it, and it cost me five -thousand to get it. You know how concessions are got down there, I -expect?” - -“How did it pan out?” - -“It never panned out at all, sir. There was a revolution next month, -and the new government annulled everything the old one had done. I -hadn’t the money to go through the business over again, but I did make -something out of the revolution, after all.” - -“How?” - -“Selling rifles to the revolutionists. I didn’t think at the time that -I was helping to beat my own game. There’s money in revolutionizing, -too. Down there a man can’t keep clear of graft, you know; it’s in the -air.” - -In spite of the apologetic tone of the last sentence, Elliott -recognized the mental attitude of the adventurer, which was becoming -very familiar to him. He had heard a good deal from Henninger of the -business of supplying a revolution with war material, in which -Henninger had participated more than once. As often as not, it is done -by buying up the officers of a ragged government regiment, and -transferring, sometimes not only the rifles and cartridges but also -the officers and men as well, to the equally ragged force in -opposition. - -But if Sevier were an adventurer he was certainly the smoothest -specimen of the fraternity that Elliott had yet encountered. And why -should such a man be going to India, surely a most unpromising field -for the industrious chevalier. As if in answer to the mental inquiry, -Sevier announced that he was going to obtain material for a series of -magazine articles upon the East, as well as for a number of newspaper -letters which he proposed to “syndicate” to half a dozen dailies as -special correspondence. - -“And I’ll have to spend the next six months mixing up with this sort -of fellows,” he lamented, waving his hand toward a group of -Anglo-Indians with seasoned complexions who were deep in “bridge” at a -neighbouring table. “I’m too American, or too Southern, or something, -to know how to get on with those chaps. I reckon it’s the fault of my -education. I can’t drink their drinks, and I never learned to play -whist right, and I’ve told them my best stories, and they took about -as well as the Declaration of Independence. I expect I’ll be right -glad when I get back where I can see a game of baseball and play -poker. Do you play poker at all?” - -“Not on shipboard. I find it’s liable to make me seasick,” replied -Elliott, a trifle grimly. - -The last apparently careless question had, he thought, given him the -clue to the secret of his companion’s presence on board, though -professional gamblers seldom operate upon the Eastern steamship lines. - -“I’ll give you a bit of advice, too,” he added. “Don’t start any -little game on board, unless it’s a very little one, indeed. These -boats aren’t as sporty as the Atlantic liners.” - -Sevier stared a moment, and then burst out laughing. - -“Oh, I’m no card crook,” he said, without showing any offence. “I -didn’t want to skin you. I’m the worst poker player you ever saw, but -I felt somehow like opening jackpots. I’ll play penny-ante with you -all the evenin’, and donate the proceeds to a Seaman’s Home, if you -like.” - -Elliott declined this invitation to charity, but he sat chatting for a -long time with the young Alabaman. His suspicions were by no means -lulled, but, after all, as he reflected, he would be neither Sevier’s -victim nor his confederate, and, though he did not know it, he was -acquiring something of the adventurer’s lax notions of morality. - -But it was pleasant to talk again on American matters, and to hear the -familiar Southern opinions, couched in the familiar Southern drawl. It -would, besides, have been difficult to find anywhere a more pleasant -fellow traveller than Sevier. He possessed a fund of reminiscence and -anecdote of an experience that seemed, in spite of his youth, to have -been almost universal, and of a world in which he appeared to have -played many parts. Newspaper work was his latest part, and he spoke -little of it. Indeed, he was anything but autobiographical, and his -tales were almost wholly of the adventures of other men, whose -irregularities he viewed with the purely objective and unmoral -interest of the man of the world who is at once a cynic and an -optimist. Above all, he seemed to have an eye for opportunities of -easy money which was more like a down-easter than a man from the Gulf -Coast, though he confessed frankly that he was just then in hard luck. - -“I’ve made fortunes,” he said. “If I had half the money that I’ve -blown in like a fool, I wouldn’t be a penny-a-liner now.” - -This remark forcibly appealed to Elliott; he had said the same thing -many times to himself. - -It became a trifle cooler after the steamer passed the dessicated -headland of Aden and put out upon the broad Indian Ocean. The weather -remained fine, and there was every prospect of a quick passage to -Bombay. With the lowering of the temperature, the irrepressible -British instinct for games reappeared, and there were deck quoits, -deck cricket, blindfold races, and a violent sort of tournament in -which the combatants aimed to knock one another with pillows from a -spar which they sat astride. Under the humanizing influence of these -diversions Elliott found his fellow passengers less unapproachable -than they had seemed, but he still spent many hours with Sevier, for -whom he had conceived a genuine liking. The two Americans were further -bound together by a common conviction of the absurdity of violent -exertion with the thermometer in the eighties. - -On the third day after leaving the Red Sea, Elliott happened to pass -down the main stairway as the third officer was putting up the daily -chart of the ship’s progress. He paused to look at it. The steamer was -then, it occurred to him, close to the point where the Italian ship -had picked up the mate of the _Clara McClay_. - -He took from his pocket a map which he had made, and consulted it. -This map showed the hypothetical course of the wrecked gold-ship in a -red line, with dotted lines indicating the probable course of the -driftings of both the mate’s boat and Bennett’s raft. As nearly as he -could judge, the liner must indeed be at that moment almost upon the -spot where the secret of the position of the wrecked treasure was -saved, in the person of the Irishman. - -He was still looking at the map when Sevier came quietly down the -stairs, paused on the step above him, and glanced over his shoulder. -Elliott dropped the map to his side, and then, ashamed of this -childish attempt at concealment, raised it again boldly. - -“Layin’ off a chart of your voyages?” inquired Sevier. “Ever been down -there?” putting his finger on the Mozambique Channel. - -“No, I never was,” answered Elliott, somewhat startled at the -question. - -“Neither was I. I’ve been told that there’s no more dangerous water in -the world. They say the currents run like a mill-race through that -channel, in different directions, according to the tides. The coast’s -covered with wreckage. I thought you might have sailed along that red -line you’ve marked.” - -“No, I don’t know anything about the place,” Elliott denied again, -putting the map in his pocket. - -“Thinking of going there?” - -“Not at present.” - -“I wish I could find out something definite about the islands in that -channel. Nobody knows anything about them at all except the Arab coast -pirates, and they keep all the pickings there are to themselves.” - -“You’ll find better pickings in India, you vulture,” cried Elliott, -with an easy laugh. - -He was far from feeling easy, however, and for a time he was sharply -suspicious of the Alabaman. Yet it was highly improbable that any one -else knew the secret of the _Clara McClay’s_ cargo and of her end; and -it was practically impossible that any one knew more of the wreck than -he did himself. Certainly Sevier could have no more definite -information, or he would be sailing to the Madagascar coast instead of -to India. Elliott persuaded himself that the young Alabaman’s -questions had been prompted by mere curiosity, and that their -startling appositeness was the result of coincidence. Still, the -incident revived his sense of the need for haste, and renewed his -eagerness to discover the traces of Burke, the brutal mate, the one -man living who knew the whole secret of the drowned millions. - -Rapidly as the good ship rolled off the knots, her slowness irritated -him. He counted the hours, almost the minutes, and it was hard to -contain his impatience till they came at last in sight of the low, -green-brown Indian shore. - -Bombay came in sight on the port bow that evening, a strange sky-line -of domes and squares. Heat lightning flickered low on the landward -horizon, casting the city into sharp silhouette against the sky, and -from some festival ashore the clash and boom of cymbals and the -terrific blare of conches rolled softened across the water. - -For hours after the steamer had anchored, the English civil and -military servants stayed on deck to look at the field of their coming -labours, and all night long the ship resounded with the clacking roar -of the derricks clearing the baggage hold. - -“Poor devils!” murmured Sevier, looking at the English clustered along -the rail. “I wonder how many of the passengers on this boat will ever -see England again—or America, either.” - -And Elliott, thinking of his perilous mission, wondered also. - - - - - CHAPTER IX. ON THE TRAIL - - -Elliott had expected to find an Oriental city; he had looked for a -sort of maze of black alleys, ivory lattices, temples, minarets, and a -medley of splendour and squalor; but in his surprise at the reality he -said that Bombay was almost like an American city. There was squalor -and splendour enough, but they were not as he had imagined them; and -at the first sight of the wide, straight, busy streets he felt a great -relief, realizing that his detective work would not have to be pursued -under such “Arabian Night” conditions as he had anticipated. - -At the landing-stage he surrendered himself to a white-robed and -barefoot native runner, who claimed to represent Ward’s Anglo-Indian -Hotel, and this functionary at once bundled him into a ricksha which -started off at a trot. So unfamiliar a mode of locomotion revived some -of Elliott’s primal expectations of the East, and the crowds that -filled the street from house-front to house-front helped to strengthen -them. The populace, as Elliott observed with surprise, were nearly as -black as the negroes at home, clad in every variety and colour of -costume, brilliant as a garden of tulips, and through the dense mass -his ricksha man forced a passage by screaming unintelligible abuse at -the top of his voice. Occasionally a black victoria clove its slow way -past him, bearing a white-clad Englishman, who gazed unseeingly over -the swarming mass; and Elliott for the first time breathed the smell -of the East, that compound of heat and dust and rancid butter and -perspiring humanity that somehow strangely suggests the yellow -marigold flowers that hang in limp clusters in the marketplaces of all -Bengal. - -At the hotel, a gigantic and imposing structure, he was received by a -Eurasian in a frock coat and no shoes, who assigned him to a vast -bedroom, cool and darkened and almost large enough to play tennis in. -Elliott examined the unfamiliar appurtenances with some curiosity, and -then took a delicious dip in the bathroom that opened from his -chamber. He then changed his clothes and went down-stairs, determined -to lose no time in visiting the United States Consulate. - -The mate of the _Clara McClay_, as the only surviving officer, was -required to report the circumstances of the loss of his ship to the -American consul; and self-interest, as much as law, should equally -have impelled him to do so. For by reporting the foundering of the -steamer in deep water he would clear himself of responsibility, and at -the same time close the case and check any possible investigation into -the whereabouts of the wreck. - -But Elliott learned at once that the white man in India is not -supposed to exert himself. The manager of the house, to whom he -applied for information, placed him in a long cane chair while a -ricksha was being called, and then installed him in the baby-carriage -conveyance, giving elaborate instructions in the vernacular to the -native motor. And again the vivid panorama of the streets unrolled -before Elliott’s eyes under the blinding sun-blaze,—the closely packed -crowd of white head-dresses, the nude torsos, bronze and black, the -gorgeous silks, and violent-hued cottons rolling slowly over the -earthen pavement that was packed hard by millions of bare feet. - -The gridiron shield with the eagle looked home-like to Elliott when he -set eyes on it, but he found the official representative of the United -States to be a brass-coloured Eurasian, who seemed to have some -recollection of the _Clara McClay_ or her mate, but was either unable -or unwilling to impart any information. He was the consular secretary; -the consul was out at the moment, but he returned just as Elliot was -turning away in disappointment. He was a rubicund gentleman of middle -age, from Ohio, as Elliott presently learned, and proud of the fact. -He wore a broad straw hat of American design—Heaven knows how he had -procured it in that land—and, to Elliott’s unbounded amazement, he was -accompanied by his own steamer acquaintance, the Alabaman Sevier. - -Elliott nodded to Sevier, trying to conceal his consternation, and was -for going away immediately, but the secretary was, after all, only too -anxious to give assistance. - -“Be pleased to wait a moment, sir. This is the consul. Mr. Guiger, -this gentleman is asking if we know anything of the position of the -mate of the wrecked American steamer, called the _Clara McClay_.” - -“His position? By Jupiter, I wish I knew it!” ejaculated the consul, -mopping his face, but showing a more than physical warmth. “This other -gentleman here has just been asking me the same thing, and I’ve had a -dozen wires from the owners in Philadelphia.” - -Elliott was thunderstruck at this revelation of Sevier’s interest in -the matter, but it was too late to draw back. - -“I was asked to make inquiries by relatives of one of the crew,” he -said, mendaciously. “Has the mate showed up here at all?” - -“Showed up? Of course he did. He had to, by Jupiter! But it was his -business to keep in touch with me till the case was gone into and -settled. He gave me an address on Malabar Hill,—too swell a locality -for a sailorman, thinks I,—and, sure enough, when I sent there for -him, they had never heard of him. I’ve not set eyes on him since. -He’ll lose his ticket, that’s all.” - -“What sort of a report did he make?” - -“Why, nothing. Said the ship was rotten, and her cargo shifted in a -gale and some of her rivets must have drawn, and she foundered. Every -one went down but himself,—all drunk, I suppose. But he didn’t even -make a sworn statement. Said he’d come back next day, and I was in a -hurry myself, and I let him go, like a fool.” - -“You don’t know whether he’s still in the city?” - -“I don’t know anything. I’ve set the police to look for him, but these -black-and-tan cops don’t amount to anything. He may be half-way to -Australia by this time. Like as not he is.” - -“Where did he say his ship foundered?” asked Sevier, speaking for the -first time. - -“Somewhere in the Mozambique Channel, in deep water. He didn’t know -exactly. Along about latitude twelve, south, he said. Went down like a -lump of lead.” - -Elliott thought of her weighty cargo, and, glancing up, he met -Sevier’s eye fixed keenly on him. - -“Well, if the man can’t be found, I suppose that’s the end of it,” he -said, carelessly, and turned away again. - -“Sorry I can’t help you, gentlemen,” responded the consul. “If I get -any news, I’ll let you know. You don’t happen to have brought out any -American newspapers, do you—Chicago ones, for choice?” - -Elliott was devoid of these luxuries, and Sevier followed him out to -the street, where the ricksha was still waiting. - -“Is that your perambulator?” inquired the Alabaman. “Let’s walk a -little. The streets aren’t so crowded here.” - -“It’s undignified for a white man to walk in this country, but I’ll -make my ricksha man follow me,” said Elliott. “Besides, I couldn’t -find my way back to the hotel without him.” - -They walked for several minutes in silence down the side of the street -that was shaded by tall buildings of European architecture. - -“Were you ever at a New Orleans Mardi Gras? Hanged if this town -doesn’t remind me of it!” Sevier suddenly broke silence. “By the way, -I didn’t know that you were interested in the _Clara McClay_.” - -“I’m not,” said Elliott, on the defensive. “I was simply making -inquiries on behalf of other people, to get some details about her -loss. You seem to have more interest than that in her yourself.” - -“Oh, my interest is a purely business one,” replied Sevier, lightly. -“I know her owners pretty well, and they wired me from Philadelphia to -find out something about her. I found the cablegram waiting for me -when I got here. Funny thing that the mate should disappear that way. -Something crooked, eh?” - -“Possibly. Queer things happen on the high seas. It looks as if he -were afraid of something.” - -“Or after something. I’ve heard of ships being run ashore for -insurance.” - -“But the _Clara McClay_ didn’t run ashore,” Elliott reminded him. “She -foundered in deep water, you know.” - -“Oh, yes, she foundered in deep water,” drawled Sevier. “Have you got -the spot marked on your map?” - -This attack was so sudden and so unexpected that Elliott floundered. - -“That map you have in your pocket, with her course marked in red,” -Sevier pursued, relentlessly. - -“That map you saw on the steamer? That wasn’t a chart of the _Clara -McClay’s_ course. Or, at least,” Elliott went on, recovering his wind, -“I don’t suppose it is, accurately. I drew it to see if I could make -out where she must have sunk, by a sort of dead reckoning. You see, I -felt a certain interest in her on account of the inquiries I was -commissioned to make. Nobody knows exactly what her course was.” - -“Nobody but the mate, and he’s skipped the country. Well, I hope you -find him, for the sake of the bereaved kinfolk.” - -He turned a humourous and incredulous glance at Elliott, and its -invitation to frankness was unmistakable. Had Elliott been alone in -the affair he might have responded, and taken his companion as a -partner. But he had not the right to do that; there were men enough to -share the plunder already; but he was possessed with curiosity to -learn what Sevier knew, and, above all, what he wanted. Sevier had -learned nothing from Bennett; he could have learned nothing from the -mate, else he would not be in pursuit of him. How then could he know -what cargo the _Clara McClay_ had carried? - -They walked a little further, talking of the features of interest like -a pair of Cook’s tourists, while the ricksha man marched stolidly -behind. - -“Queer that Burke didn’t know where she went down!” said Sevier, as if -to himself. - -“Who’s Burke?” asked Elliott, on the alert this time. - -“The mate of the _Clara McClay_. Didn’t you know his name? I got it -from the owners. They’re wild about him; swear they’ll have his -certificate taken from him. It seems he hasn’t reported a word to -them, and all they know is a newspaper item saying that he was picked -up from the wreck.” - -“Was all that in your cablegram?” demanded Elliott, with malice. - -“They told me that in Philadelphia, before I left,” Sevier replied, -imperturbably. - -This was just possible, but, after a rapid mental calculation of -dates, Elliott decided that it was unlikely. Besides, why should the -owners have cabled, if they had seen their messenger just before he -sailed? But he had already arrived at the conviction that Sevier’s -explanation of his interest in the treasure-ship was as fictitious as -his own. - -“Isn’t it likely,” he said, easily, “that the mate was drunk and -navigated her out of her course, and ran her ashore? He knows that -he’s responsible for her loss, and he’s afraid to face a court of -inquiry.” - -“He’ll sure lose his certificate anyway, if he doesn’t show up. -Besides, he didn’t run her ashore. She went down in deep water.” - -“Sure enough, she went down in deep water,” Elliott acquiesced. A -strong sense of the futility of this fencing stole over him, and he -turned abruptly and beckoned to his ricksha. - -“It’s too hot to walk. I’m going back to my hotel—the Anglo-Indian. -Come around and look me up. Are you going to search for your lost -mate?” - -“Oh, dear, no! I’m not paid for doing that. Besides, I’m going up the -country in a day or so to get stuff for my articles.” - -He watched Elliott into his ricksha, and walked off, Elliott wondered -vainly where. - -He wondered also whether he ought not to keep close to this -smooth-spoken pseudo-journalist, who, he felt sure, was also on the -track of the treasure-ship. But this would hamper him fatally in his -quest for the elusive mate Burke, and this quest was to be Elliott’s -next affair. - -But he had next to no idea just where or how he would look. He was an -inlander; he knew little of the ways of seafaring men ashore, and -nothing at all of this particular city. He plunged boldly into the -search, however, and, as a preliminary, he spent a day in roaming -about the waterfront of Mazagon Bay, entering into conversation with -such white seamen as he came across. But he was acutely conscious that -he made a bungle of this. These men were too far outside his -experience for him to enter into easy relations with them. His -immaculate white flannels were also against him; he received either -too much deference or too little, and he suspected that he was taken -for a detective or a customs officer. He decided that he would have to -assume a less respectable appearance. - -But every one he met professed total ignorance of the _Clara McClay_ -and her mate. Most of the men were transient; they had been in Bombay -for only a few days or weeks, and the arrival of a single man, even -the survivor of a wreck, is too slight an episode to leave any mark -upon such a port as Bombay, where the shipping of a whole world is -gathered. But a vessel is a different thing, and Elliott learned—it -was the whole result of his day’s work—that the Italian steamer -_Andrea Sforzia_, which had picked up Burke’s boat, had sailed a month -ago for Cape Town. - -Had Burke gone with her? No one knew. Elliott thought it most -probable; and in that case the rich grave of the gold-ship must be -rifled already. A feeling of sick failure spread through Elliott’s -system as he realized that the whole quest might have been in vain, -even before they left America. But he cabled to Henninger at Zanzibar: - -“Steamer _Andrea Sforzia_ sailed Cape Town about April 10th, likely -with Burke.” - -Still it might be that the mate had not sailed with the Italian -steamer, after all, and, while awaiting a reply from Zanzibar, Elliott -resumed his detective work. It was good to pass the anxious time, if -it led to no other result. He hired a room in a cheap sailors’ hotel -in Mazagon, where he went every morning to change his white clothes -for a dirty, bluish dungaree slop-suit, which he bought at a low -clothing store, and, thus suitably attired, he was able to pursue his -explorations among the tortuous ways of the old Portuguese settlement -and attract no attention so long as he kept his mouth shut. These -wanderings he often carried far into the night, returning finally to -his dirty room to resume the garb of respectability. - -He saw many strange things in these explorations among the groggeries, -dives, and sailors’ boarding-houses, where the seamen of every -maritime race on earth herded together in their stifling quarter. He -sat in earthen-floored drinking-shops, where Lascars, Norse, Yankees, -Englishmen, and Italians gulped down poisonous native liquors like -water, and quarrelled in a babel of tongues; he leaned over fan-tan -tables in huge, filthy rooms that had been the palaces of merchant -princes; and nightly he saw the tired dancing-girls from the Hills -posture obscenely before an audience of white, yellow, and brown sea -scum, ferociously drunk or stupid with opium. More than once he saw -knives drawn and used, and the blood spurt dark in the candle-light; -and once he had to run for it to avoid being gathered in by the police -along with his companions. But nowhere could he hear anything of what -he sought, and he could find no one who would admit having seen the -mate of the _Clara McClay_. - -He had received no reply from Henninger, and this, perhaps, -illogically reassured him. After a week he had ceased to expect any, -but by this time he had well ceased to believe that Burke was still in -Bombay. If he were there, Elliott did not believe that he could be -found, and he regretted anew that he had not obtained a detailed -description of the man from Bennett. He visited the American consul -again, but that official had no further news, and was able to describe -the mate only as “a big fellow, with a big beard turning gray,” which -was indefinite enough. - -After all, Elliott reflected, the man would be likely to change his -name and to keep apart from other seamen. Surely, if he had been going -to fit out a wrecking expedition, he would have done it long since, -but such an enterprise would certainly have left memories upon the -waterfront. Elliott could not learn that anything of the sort had been -done. Possibly Burke had gone elsewhere to launch his expedition; very -likely he had no money, and had gone elsewhere to obtain it. - -Elliott grew very weary with turning over all these possibilities, and -almost disheartened, but he persisted in his perambulations about the -sailors’ quarter. He was beginning to feel the deadly lassitude which -stealthily grows upon the unacclimated white man in the tropics, and -he would probably have given up the quest in another week, but for a -lucky chance. - -The crush of the crowd had elbowed him into a corner beside a tiny -second-hand clothes-stall near the landing-place of the coasting -steamers, and he gazed idly at the foul-looking seamen’s -clothing—caps, oilskins, sea boots, cotton trousers—that almost filled -the recess in the wall that served for a shop. In the centre lounged -the shopman, apparently half Eurasian and half English Jew, who looked -as if he clothed himself from his own stock in trade. - -As Elliott was trying to disengage himself from the crowd, he knocked -down a suit of oilskins, and stooped to pick it up. It was an -excellent suit, though considerably worn, and as he rescued the heavy -sou’wester hat, his eye was caught by rude black lettering on the -under side of the peak. It had been done in India ink, and read “J. -Burke, S. S. _Clara McClay_.” - -Elliott stared at the initials, dazzled by his good luck. They must be -the oilskins of the missing mate, who had sold them there. Who else -could have brought clothing from the wreck to Bombay? The shopman, -scenting trade, had crept forward, and was sidling and fawning at -Elliott’s shoulder. - -“Want nice oilskins, Sahib? Ver’ scheap. You shall haf dem for ten -rupee.” - -“I’ll give you five,” said Elliott, carelessly, hanging up the cap. - -“Fif rupee? Blood of Buddha! I pay eight, s’help me Gawd!” - -“Look here,” said Elliott. “I don’t want the oilskins, but I think -they used to belong to a friend of mine, and I’ll give you eight -rupees if you’ll tell me where you got them.” - -The merchant wrinkled his brows, undoubtedly pondering whether he was -in danger of compromising any thief of his acquaintance. - -“I remember,” he presently announced. “You gif me ten rupee?” - -“Ten it is.” - -“I buy dem more than two weeks ago from your friend’s kitmatgar, -Hurris Chunder.” - -Elliott’s heart sank again. “My friend’s a sailorman, and wouldn’t -have a servant.” - -“Hurris Chunder say his master gif dem to him,” insisted the Jew. - -“Can you find Hurris Chunder?” - -“Maybe,” with an avid grin. - -“Here’s your ten rupees,” said Elliott. “I’ll give you ten more if -you’ll manage to have Hurris Chunder here to-night, and he shall have -another ten for telling me what he knows. Does it go?” - -“Yes,” responded the trader, with lightning comprehension of Western -slang. “The Sahib will find Hurris Chunder here to-night. At ten -o’clock.” - -Elliott had already learned the indefinite notions of the East -regarding time, and he did not care to show the impatience he felt, so -he did not arrive at his appointment till nearly eleven o’clock. The -yellow Jew led him to the rear of the tiny shop and introduced him -through an unsuspected door into a small chamber littered with rags, -old clothes, rubbish of copper and brass, and dirty-looking apparatus. -It was here that the merchant ate and slept, and in the middle of the -floor a white-clad figure was squatting, smoking a brass pipe. - -“This is Hurris Chunder, Sahib,” said the Jew, eagerly. - -The native, a golden-complexioned young man, with a somewhat sleepy -Buddha-like face, put down his pipe, and bowed without getting up. - -“Very good,” said Elliott. “Here’s your ten rupees, Israel. Now, get -out. I want to have a little private talk with our friend.” - -The half-caste scuttled into the outer shop and closed the door. - -“Now, then, Hurris, tell me the truth. Where did you steal those -oilskins?” - -Hurris Chunder made a deprecating gesture. “May the Presence pardon -me,” he said, in soft and excellent English. “I did not steal them. My -master, Baker Sahib, gave them to me.” - -“Baker Sahib, indeed!” Elliott murmured. “Where is your master? What -did he look like?” - -“He was a tall, lean, strong sahib, and when he first came he had a -great gray beard. He lived for many days at the Planters’ Hotel, and I -was unworthily his kitmatgar.” - -This was another surprise, for the Planters’ was an excellent, quiet, -and rather high-priced hotel, and the mate was presumably short of -funds. - -“He had money, then?” - -“He had much money, English money. He was a very generous Sahib.” - -“Well, you’ll find me a generous Sahib, too, if you act on the level. -Here’s your ten rupees. Baker Sahib is at the Planters’, then?” - -“No, Sahib, he went away. He gave me the oilskins when he went. He -sailed on a ship, a great black steamer. He went to England.” - -“To England? Are you sure it wasn’t Africa?” - -“Yes, Sahib, to Africa.” - -“What port was she bound for?” - -“Sahib, before God, I do not know. I think London.” - -“London? You said Africa. Wasn’t it America?” - -“The Sahib is right.” - -“Or Australia?” - -“If the Sahib pleases, it is so,” was the submissive response. - -“You old fraud!” said Elliott. “You don’t know where he went. Are you -sure he went away at all?” - -“Yes, Sahib. He cut off his great beard, and I took his luggage to the -ship for him,—a great black steamer, full of English. I do not know -the name of the ship.” - -“Cut off his beard, eh? And you don’t know what ship it was, or where -she went? Well, never mind, I can find that out myself. Your knowledge -is distinctly limited, Hurris, but you’re a good boy, and I believe -you’ve given me the key to the situation. It’s worth another rupee or -two. Good-bye.” - -He tossed the native three more rupees, and went to change his -clothes, bursting with excited impatience. To-morrow he would know the -mate’s destination. - -As early as possible the next morning, he sought the Planters’ Hotel, -and found that Baker Sahib had indeed been there since the 18th of -March. This was the day after the arrival of the _Andrea Sforzia_ at -Bombay, and the coincidence of the dates was corroborative evidence. -He had left on the 27th of March, and his destination was unknown at -the hotel. - -An examination of the shipping-lists, however, showed that on March -27th three passenger steamers had sailed from Bombay,—the _Punjaub_, -for London; the _Imperadora_, for Southampton, and the _Prince of -Burmah_ for Hongkong. Elliott hastened to the city passenger offices -of these lines, and begged permission to inspect the passenger-lists -of their ships sailing on that day. The sheets of the _Punjaub_ and of -the _Imperadora_ proved devoid of interest, but half-way down the list -of the _Prince of Burmah’s_ saloon passengers he came upon the name of -Henry Baker. He was booked through to Hongkong. - -The amazing improbability of this almost staggered Elliott. If the -mate knew the secret of the treasure, why should he fly thus to the -very antipodes; and if he knew no guilty secrets, why should he have -secreted himself in Bombay, and cut off his beard for purposes of -disguise? - -Were Baker and Burke identical, after all? But the American consul’s -brief description of the man tallied with that of Hurris Chunder, and -Baker had arrived at the Planters’ Hotel the day after Burke had -arrived in Bombay. Baker had brought with him oilskins from the -wrecked ship, from which he alone had been picked up at that time. - -It must be the mate, Elliott thought. In any case, Baker must know -things of importance to the gold hunters, and Elliott cabled again to -Zanzibar: - -“Mate sailed Hongkong. Am following.” - -Three days later he sailed for Hongkong himself. Up to the very moment -of clearing port he was tormented with apprehensions that Sevier would -appear on board. But, whatever were the researches of the Alabaman, -they were evidently being conducted in a different quarter, and the -weight gradually lifted from Elliott’s mind as the steamer ploughed -slowly down the bay, past the white moored monitors and the little -rocky islets of the peninsula. The treasure hunt had turned out a man -hunt, but he hoped that he was upon the last stage of the long stern -chase. - - - - - CHAPTER X. A LOST CLUE - - -Victoria City on Hongkong Island was almost invisible in hot mist and -rain as the steamer crawled up the roads and anchored off the -sea-wall. The gray harbour water appeared to steam, slopping -sluggishly against her iron sides, and the rain steamed as it fell, so -that the heavy air was a sort of stew of wet and heat and strange -smells of the sea and land. The Lascar and coolie deck-hands were -hurrying out the side-ladder, the water streaming from their faces and -their coarse black hair; but, above the rattle and bustle of -disembarkation, Elliott was aware of the movement of a mighty life -clustered invisibly around him. The hum and roar of an immense city -pierced the fog to landward; on the other side he was conscious of the -presence of innumerable shipping. The noises came hollowly through the -hot air, echoed from the sides of giant vessels; he caught hazy -glimpses of towering forests of yards, and of wet, black funnels. The -air was acrid with the smoke of coal, and the water splashed -incessantly upon the sea-wall from the swift passage of throbbing -steam launches. Away in the mist there was a rapid fusilade of -fire-crackers, and somewhere, apparently from the clouds above the -city, a gun was fired, reverberating through the mist. A ship’s bell -was struck near by, and, before the strokes had ceased, it was taken -up by another vessel, and another, and the sound spread through the -haze, near and far, tinkling in every key: - -“Ting, ting; ting, ting; ting!” It was half-past five o’clock in the -afternoon. - -The rain slackened, and a fresh breeze split the mist. To landward -Elliott beheld a wet, white city climbing irregularly up the sides of -a long serrated mountain. The waterfront along the sea-wall swarmed -with traffic, with rickshaws, sedan-chairs, carts, trucks, gay -umbrellas, coolies, Lascars, Chinese, Indians, Japanese. The port was -crowded with shipping, from war-steamers to high-sterned junks, as -motley as the throng ashore, and it was shot through incessantly with -darting tugs and launches, so that in its activity it reminded him -more of New York bay than of any other roadstead he had ever seen. - -During the voyage from Bombay he had perforce picked up a smattering -of that queer “pidgin-English” so apparently loose and so really -organized a language, and when he stepped upon the Praya he beckoned -authoritatively to a passing palanquin. - -“Boy! You savvy number one good hotel?” - -“Yes, master. Gleat Eastel’ Hotel b’long number one good.” - -“Great Eastern Hotel, then—chop-chop,” Elliott acquiesced, getting -into the chair, and the coolies set off as he had directed, chop-chop, -that is, with speed. They scurried across the Praya, up a narrow cross -street, and came out upon Queen’s Road. They passed the Club and the -post-office and finally set him down at the hotel, which, in spite of -its great size and elaborate cooling devices, he found intolerably hot -and damp. It rained all that evening, till his clothing hung limply -upon him even in the billiard-room of the hotel, and when he went to -his chamber he found the sheets apparently sodden, and damp stood -shining on the walls. Even in the steamy passage through the Malay -Archipelago Elliott had spent no such uncomfortable night as that -first one in Victoria at the commencement of the rainy season. - -A torrential rain was pouring down when he awoke, after having spent -most of the night in listening to the scampering of the cockroaches -about his room. It was a hot rain, and there was no morning freshness -in the air. The room was as damp as if the roof had been leaking, but -he began to realize that this was to be expected and endured in -Victoria for the next three months, and, shuddering damply, he -resolved that he would hunt down his man within a week, if “Baker” -were still upon the island. - -By the time he had finished a very English breakfast, for which he had -no appetite, the rain had ceased, leaving the air even hotter than -before. The sun shone dimly from a watery sky. Elliott felt oppressed -with an aching languor, but he was deeply anxious to finish his work -and get away, so he went out upon the hot streets. - -This time he would not repeat the mistakes of Bombay, and he wasted no -time in adventures about the harbour. He called a sedan-chair and, -having ascertained the names of the leading hotels of the city, he -proceeded to investigate them one by one. - -This search resulted in nothing but disappointment. There was no -record of the man he sought at any hotel, neither at the expensive -ones nor at the second and third class houses to which he presently -descended. The mate might indeed have changed his name again on -landing, though Elliott could think of no reason why he should do so. -At the Eastern Navigation Company’s offices he ascertained that -“Baker” had indeed landed at Victoria from the _Prince of Burmah_, but -nothing was known of his present whereabouts. - -Finally Elliott called upon the American consul, who could give him no -help. He had never heard of the _Clara McClay_ or her mate, but he -turned out to be a Marylander, and he took Elliott to dinner with him, -and made him free of the magnificent Hongkong Club, which is the envy -of all the foreign settlements on the Eastern seas. - -Under the sweeping punkahs in the vast, dusky rooms of the Club a -temperature was maintained more approaching to coolness than Elliott -had yet found in Victoria, and he lounged there for most of the -evening, observing that a great part of the male white population of -the city seemed to do likewise. It had come on to rain again, and the -shuffle of bare feet in the streets mingled with the dismal swish of -the downpour. He had been in Victoria for twenty-four hours, but he -found himself bitterly weary already and oppressed with a certainty of -failure. - -Failure was indeed his lot during the next two weeks, though by an -examination of the shipping-lists he assured himself that Baker had -not sailed from Hongkong in the last two months, at least, not by any -of the regular passenger steamers. It was out of all probability that -he should have gone into the interior of China, and beyond possibility -that he should have organized his wrecking expedition at so distant a -port. Yet it was almost equally beyond the limits of likelihood that -he should have come to Hongkong at all; and it was so beyond the -bounds of sanity that he should voluntarily stay there during the -rains that Elliott was forced to recognize that reason afforded no -clue to the man’s movements. - -To search for a stray straw in a haystack is trying to the temper, -especially when the search must be conducted under the conditions of a -vapour bath. But Elliott sweltered and toiled with a determination -that certainly deserved more success than he attained. He acquired -much knowledge that was new to him in that fortnight. He learned the -names and flavours of many strange and cooling drinks; he learned to -call a chair or a rickshaw when he had to go twenty yards; to hang his -clothes in an airtight safe overnight to save them from the -cockroaches; to scrape the nocturnal accumulation of mould from his -shoes in the morning, and to look inside them for centipedes before he -put them on. He learned to keep matches and writing-paper in glass -jars, to forget that there was such a thing as stiff linen, and to -call it a dry day if the rain occasionally slackened. But he learned -nothing of what he was most anxious to discover. He could find no -trace of either Baker or Burke at the hotels, at the consulates, at -the Club, or along the waterfront, and no man in Victoria admitted to -having ever heard of the _Clara McClay_. - -From time to time he went up to the Peak, behind the city, to gain -refreshment in that social and physical altitude. A house there cost -fifty guineas a month, but every one had it who pretended to comfort -or distinction. It was damp even on the Peak, but it was cool; -Hongkong Bay and Victoria lay almost perpendicularly below, veiled by -a steamy haze, but on the summit fresh breezes played among the China -pines, and Elliott always took the tramcar down the zigzag road again -with fresh courage for an adventure that was daily growing more -intolerably unadventurous. - -The same desire for coolness at any cost led him to take the -coasting-boat for Macao on the second Saturday of his stay. He had -heard much already of the dead Portuguese colony, the Monte Carlo of -the China coast, maintaining its wretched life by the lottery, the -fan-tan houses, and the perpetual issue of new series of postage -stamps for the beguilement of collectors. But Macao is cooler than -Hongkong, and those who cannot afford to live on the Peak find it a -convenient place for the weekend, much to the benefit of the -gaming-tables. - -This being a Saturday, the boat was crowded with Victoria business -men, who looked forward to a relief from the heat and the strain of -the week in the groves and the fan-tan saloons of Macao. The relief -began almost as soon as the roadstead was cleared, and a fresher -breeze blew from a clearer sky, a cool east wind that came from green -Japan. Elliott inhaled it with delight; it was almost as good as the -Peak. - -The verdant crescent of Macao Bay came in sight after a couple of -hours’ steaming. At either tip of the curve stood a tiny and -dilapidated block-house flying the Portuguese banner, and between -them, along the water’s edge, ran a magnificent boulevard shaded by -stately banyan-trees. The whole town appeared embowered in foliage; -the white houses glimmered from among green boughs, and behind the -town rose deeply wooded hills. Scarcely an idler sauntered on the -Praya; a couple of junks slept at the decaying wharves, and deep -silence brooded over the whole shore. - -“Beautiful!” ejaculated Elliott, unconsciously, overjoyed at the sight -of a place that looked as if it knew neither business nor rain nor -heat. - -“Beautiful enough—but dead and accursed,” replied a man who had been -reading in a deck-chair beside him. - -“It looks dead, I must say,” Elliott admitted, glancing again at the -deserted wharves. - -The other man stood up, slipping a magazine into his pocket. He was -gray-haired, tall, and very thin, with a face of reposeful benignity. -The magazine, Elliott observed, was the _Religious Outlook_, of San -Francisco. - -“An American missionary,” he thought; and his heart warmed at the -sight of a fellow countryman. - -“I suppose it is pretty bad,” he said, aloud. “The more reason for men -of your cloth to come over here.” - -The old man looked puzzled for a moment, and then gently shook his -head with a smile. - -“I’m not a missionary, as you seem to think. At least, I ain’t any -more of a missionary than I reckon every man ought to be who tries to -live as he should. I’m just a tired-out Hongkong bookkeeper.” - -“You’re an American, anyway.” - -“You are too, ain’t you?” - -“Certainly I am,” Elliott proclaimed. “And you—” - -The little steamer rammed the wharf with a thump that set everything -jingling on board. The gangplank was run out; the old man dived into -the cabin in evident search for something or some one, and Elliott -lost sight of him, and went ashore. - -Macao slumbered in profound serenity. As soon as the excursionists had -scattered, the Praya Grande was deserted. The great white houses -seemed asleep or dead behind their close green shutters and wrought -iron lattices that reminded Elliott of the Mexican southwest. But the -air was clear and fresh, and it was possible to walk about without -being drenched with perspiration. Elliott strolled, lounged on the -benches in the deserted park, visited the monument to Camoens above -the bay, and finally ate a supper at the only decent hotel in the -place, and enjoyed it thoroughly because it contained neither English -nor Chinese dishes. - -In the evening there was a little more animation. There were strollers -about the streets like himself; the band played in the park, and -through the iron-barred windows he caught occasional mysterious -glimpses of dark and seductive eyes under shadowy lashes. As he -sauntered past the blank front of a great stone house that in the days -of Macao’s greatness had possibly been the home of a prince, he was -stopped by a silk-clad coolie who lounged beside the wide, arched -entrance. - -“Chin-chin master. You wantchee makee one piecey fan-tan pidgin?” - -Elliott had no idea of playing, but he had no objection to watching a -little “fan-tan pidgin,” and he allowed the Celestial “capper” to -introduce him through the iron gate that barred the archway. The arch -was as long as a tunnel, leading to the square _patio_ at the heart of -the house, and here the scene was sufficiently curious. - -Here the fan-tan tables were set, completely hidden from Elliott’s -view by the packed mass of men that stood above them. Over each table -burned a ring of gas-jets; far above them the stars shone clear in the -blue sky beyond the roofless court. Round the _patio_ ran a wide -balcony, dimly lighted, where men were drinking at little tables or -leaning over to look down at the game, and there was a scurrying to -and fro of deft, white-robed Chinese waiters. Round the games there -was absolute silence, except for the click of the counters, the rattle -of the coin, and the impassive voice of the dealer as he announced, -“Number one side!” - -Elliott pushed into the nearest group till he could see the table. -Opposite to him sat the dealer, a yellow Portuguese half-caste, his -hands full of small gilded counters; and beside him the croupier -leaned over shallow boxes of gold, silver, and bills. The centre of -the table was covered with a large square piece of sheet lead, with -each side numbered, and coins scattered about the sides and corners. -The dealer filled both his slim, dirty hands with the gilded counters -and counted them out in little piles of four each. There were two -counters left over. - -“Number two side!” he announced, wearily. - -Those who had staked their money upon the second side of the leaden -square were at once paid three times their stake by the croupier; -those who had placed their bets at the corner of the first and second, -or the second and third were paid even money. The dealer again plunged -his hands into the great heap of shining counters. - -Round the table men of all conditions, nationalities, and colours hung -upon the dropping of the bits of gilded metal. There were coolies -staking their small silver coins, Hongkong merchants, white and -Chinese, putting down sovereigns and Bank of England notes, half a -dozen English men-of-war’s men gambling away their pay, and a few -tourists playing nothing at all. There were Japanese there, Sikhs from -Hongkong, and a couple of wild Malays. The desertion of the streets -was explained. The whole moribund life of the colony throbbed in these -fierce ulcers. - -Elliott had seen the game often enough already to understand it, and -he was determined not to play. The money Henninger had given him was -going fast enough as it was. He watched the game, however, with -considerable interest, and began to predict the numbers mentally. -There was a run on the even numbers. Four came up three times in -succession, then two, then four again, then three, one, and again back -to the even numbers. Elliott watched the handful of gilded discs that -the dealer was counting out, and long before the end was reached he -felt certain of what the remainder would be, and usually he was right. -If he had only played his predictions, he calculated that he would -then have won three or four hundred dollars. He might as well have had -it as not; he remembered the wonderful winning at roulette in -Nashville, and the money in his pocket almost stirred of itself. He -had a couple of sovereigns in his hand before he knew how they came -there, but it was too late to play them on that deal. - -He waited, therefore, and elbowed himself through the crowd to be -nearer the table. This change in position brought him close behind the -shoulder of a tall man with gray hair, who was leaning anxiously -across the table as the gilded counters slipped through the dealer’s -delicate fingers. Elliott glanced abstractedly aside at the man’s -face, and the shock of surprise made him forget the game. - -It was certainly his clerical-looking friend of the steamer, though -his face no longer wore its expression of sweetness and repose. He was -desperately intent on the game, that was evident. As the counters were -cast out his lips moved counting “one, two, three, four!” He had his -hand full of gold coins, and three sovereigns lay before him on number -two. - -“Number four side!” the dealer proclaimed. - -The old man groaned audibly. The croupier swept in the losing stakes -and paid out the winning ones with incredible celerity. There was a -pause, while fresh bets were made. The old man looked from one side of -the square to another with agonized perplexity, fingering his coin. -Finally he put down three sovereigns on the fourth side, and almost -immediately changed his mind and shoved them across to the third. - -Elliott did not play. The surprise of this encounter had brought him -to himself, and he watched the man, wondering. It was plain that the -old man was no gambler; he did not even make a pretence at assuming -the imperturbable air of the sporting man. He was childishly agitated; -he looked as if he might cry if his bad luck continued. Elliott called -him a fool, and yet he was sorry for him. - -“Joss-pidgin man,” he heard a coolie whisper to another, indicating -the inexpert player with contempt. - -Number four side won, and the old man lost again upon the next deal. -His handful of gold was diminishing, but he staked six sovereigns upon -the second side of the square. “Oh, Lord! Oh, Lord, help me!” Elliott -caught the murmur from his moving lips. Elliott was disgusted, sick -and sorry at the pitiful sight, and yet it was none of his business. -The man turned once and looked him full in the face with absent eyes -that saw nothing, faded blue eyes that were full of weak tears. - -“Number one side!” called the dealer, and the six sovereigns were -raked in by the bank. The old man now had six coins left, and he -staked three of them without hesitation on the second side as before. -Squeezed against his side, Elliott could feel his thin old arms -trembling with painful excitement. - -“Number one side!” - -A kind of explosive sob burst from the player’s lips. He followed his -money with hungry eyes as it was gathered up, and then his glance -wandered about the circle of white and brown faces with a pitiful -appeal. His eye met Elliott’s; it was full of a hurt, bewildered -disappointment. The old man put out his hand to stake his last pieces. - -Elliott grasped his arm, on a sudden impulse. - -“Don’t play any more,” he said, in a low tone. “You’ve got no luck -to-night.” - -The player looked blankly at him, and tried to pull away his arm. - -“Stop it, I say,” reiterated Elliott. “You’d better come away with me. -You don’t know anything about this game.” - -“Who are you? I don’t know you. You’re trying to rob me, but I’ll get -my money back in spite of you.” - -“You old fool, I’m the best friend you’ve got in this house. You come -right along with me,” said Elliott, energetically, trying to drag the -gambler away from the table. - -He resisted with a sort of limp determination, but Elliott hauled him -through the circle of players that immediately closed up behind them. -No one troubled to look around; the game went on, and the dealer -announced, “Number four side!” - -“Now put your money in your pocket. We’ll go out,” Elliott ordered, -wondering at himself for taking so much trouble. For aught he knew, -the man might have been able to afford a loss of thousands. The -unlucky player fumbled tremulously with his sovereigns, and Elliott -was finally obliged to tuck them away for him. - -The guard at the gate let them out, and Elliott resolved to take -precautions against his protégé’s returning to the game. - -“You see this Sahib?” he said to the coolie. “Him have lost allee -cash. You no pay him go inside no more, savvy? No more cash, him makee -plenty bobbery. You savvy?” - -“Savvy plenty, master,” replied the coolie, with a knowing grin. - -“You’ll thank me for this to-morrow, if you don’t now,” said Elliott. -“Where do you intend to go?” - -The old man made no immediate answer, but he leaned limply on -Elliott’s arm, apparently in a state of nervous collapse. Unexpectedly -he turned away, hid his face in his hands against the white wall of -the house, and began to sob. - -“Oh, here! This won’t do. Confound it, man, brace up! Don’t break down -before a Chinaman,” cried Elliott, irritated and sorry. - -“I have fallen again!” moaned the gambler, hysterically. “I am -vile—yes, steeped in sin. Forty-seven pounds gone in an hour! And my -one hope was to live a life that would tell for the Cross in this -pagan land. I am weak, weak as water, and I have taken my child’s -bread and cast it unto the dogs. They robbed me. My God, why hast thou -forsaken me? I hoped to win ten times my money—I needed it so!” - -Elliott seized him by the arm and dragged him down the street in the -ivory moonlight. The old man’s face was ivory-white, and great tears -trickled from the faded blue eyes. - -“Don’t touch me,—I am not fit for you to touch me! I never gambled -before. If I only had it back again—forty-seven pounds—two months’ -savings. I will get it back. Let me go. I will win this time!” - -“You’ll get a knife in your back if you go there again. I’ve left word -to keep you out. For heaven’s sake, keep cool!” implored Elliott, in -great distress. He had never seen an old man break down before. It -wrung his heart, and he made a clumsy attempt at consolation. - -“Cheer up, now. You’re not broke, are you? I can lend you a pound or -so, if you need it. You’ll feel better in the morning.” - -They reached a little park at the angle of two streets, and the -gamester threw himself upon a bench. He had ceased to weep, but he -looked at Elliott with a tragic face. - -“You know little,” he said, sombrely. “You are young and strong, but -Satan stands at your back as surely as he does at mine. Pray, -therefore, lest you also fall into temptation.” - -Elliott could think of nothing to say in reply to this. - -“As for me, it is too late. And yet,” throwing his hands up -despairingly, “thou knowest, O Lord, if I have not served -thee—laboured for thee in pagan lands with all my strength. Wasted, -wasted! What was I to strive against the Adversary? I thought that I -had begun a new life where all my errors would be forgotten, and now -it is crushed—gone—and my child will starve among strangers.” - -“Tell me all about it. It’ll make you feel better, and maybe I can -help you,” Elliott adjured him, afraid that he would grow hysterical -again. “First of all, what’s your name? You said you were a -bookkeeper, or something, didn’t you?” - -The victim of chance seemed to cast about in his memory. “My name is -Eaton,” he announced at last, and stopped. - -“Well, and what about your new life and your child? You haven’t -gambled them away, have you? Is your family in Hongkong?” - -Eaton transferred his gaze blankly to Elliott’s face, and allowed it -to remain there for some seconds. - -“You seem to be a good man,” he said, finally. - -“Not particularly, but I’d like to help you if I can,” replied the -adventurer. - -“My little girl is coming to Hongkong. I sent for her—from the States. -She will arrive to-morrow, and I have no money.” - -“You sent for her? You sent for an American child to come to Hongkong -in the rainy season? You ought to be shot!” Elliott ejaculated. - -“She was all I had, and I am an old man. I was going to begin a new -life, with her help, and now I have lost the money I had saved for her -coming.” - -“What in the world made you go up against that cursed game, then?” -cried Elliott, wrathfully. - -“I wanted money—more money. I had a chance to make a fortune. I dare -say you have never known what it is to feel ready to turn to anything -to make a little money—anything, even to evil. And yet this was for a -good purpose. But now I have nothing. Tell me what to do.” - -“I can lend you twenty pounds,” said Elliott, after cogitating for a -little. “That ought to tide you over your present difficulty, and -you’ve still got your job, I suppose. Yes, I’ll put twenty pounds in -your daughter’s hands when she arrives, on the condition that she -doesn’t give you a cent of it.” - -“You will lend me twenty pounds—you—a stranger?” cried Eaton, with a -stare. “You—I can’t thank you, but I will pray—no, I can’t even pray!” -He put his head on the back of the bench and sobbed. “You must forgive -me,” he said, raising his head again. “I have never found so much -kindness in the world. You are right; do not trust me with a cent. I -am not fit to be trusted.” - -“Oh, yes, you are. I shouldn’t have said that,” encouraged Elliott, -feeling horribly embarrassed. “And now, when is your daughter coming?” - -“On the Southern Mail steamer. It touched at Yokohama eight days ago, -and it’s due to arrive here to-morrow afternoon.” - -“Very good. We’ll go back to Victoria in the morning, and we’ll both -meet the steamer. But what possessed you to send for her at this time -of year? Hongkong is bad enough for strong men.” - -“My girl is all I have in the world, and I haven’t seen her for so -long,” replied Eaton, visibly brightening. “Maybe it was a father’s -selfishness, but I reckon she needs my care.” - -“Your care!” said Elliott, brutally. “Where are you going to sleep -to-night? Come with me to my hotel.” - -“I had planned such a happy home,” Eaton went on, as they walked -through the moonlit streets. “I have had a hard life, but I had hoped -to settle here in comfort with my little girl. We can do it, can’t -we?” - -“I suppose so,” replied Elliott. “Though it seems to me that Hongkong -is a mighty poor place for a happy home.” - -“It isn’t the place; it’s the love and peace,” the gambler prattled -on, cheerfully. He appeared quite happy and restored in having thrown -his cares upon Elliott’s shoulders. “I have fallen into sin more than -once already, but the Lord knows how sorely I have repented, and His -grace is abounding. Don’t you think they must have cheated me in that -place?” - -“Oh, no. You were just out of luck. You should never play when you are -out of luck,” said Elliott, sagely. - -“It seems to me that I ought to have won. I suppose you have gambled -sometimes. Did you ever win?” - -“Occasionally.” - -“Well, luck or not, I shall never stake money again. I have been -treated with more mercy than I deserve. I just begin to realize the -horrible pit that I barely escaped. What would have become of me? I -hardly dare to think of it. You have saved me, perhaps soul as well as -body.” - -“Oh, stop it!” Elliott exclaimed. - -“I don’t think of myself so much as of my little girl. I shall tell -her the whole story, and she will know how to thank you better than I -can.” - -“You’ll do nothing of the sort!” cried Elliott, angrily. “She’ll have -troubles enough in this pestilential place without that.” - -During the night Elliott more than once repented of his bargain, which -seemed likely to involve his having the Eaton family slung round his -neck to the end of his stay in the East. The old man was -well-intentioned enough; he bristled with high resolutions; but he was -clearly as unfit for responsibility as a child. Elliott deeply pitied -the unfortunate daughter, but he could not feel himself bound to -assume the position of guardian to the pair. He determined to meet the -steamer as he had promised, hand over the promised twenty pounds, and -henceforward avoid the neighbourhood of both father and daughter. - -The returning boat left Macao at ten o’clock the next morning, and -they reëntered the steam and rain of Hongkong harbour. At three -o’clock the big Southern Mail steamer loomed slowly in sight through -the haze, surrounded by a fleet of small junks and shore boats. Eaton -and Elliott boarded her before any one had landed. Her decks were -crowded with passengers, hurrying aimlessly about, staring over the -rail or standing guard upon piles of luggage. - -Elliott was making his way through the throng when some one touched -his arm. - -“Mr. Elliott! Is it possible you are here? What are you doing? I -thought you were in India. I was so frightened—oh!” - -“Margaret—Miss Laurie! Don’t faint!” gasped Elliott, shocked into -utter bewilderment, and scarcely believing his eyes or ears. - -“I’m not going to faint. I never faint,” said Margaret, weakly. “But I -was so startled and frightened. Did you know my father was here?” - -“Maggie!” cried Eaton, pushing past him, and in a moment the old man, -whose face beamed like the sun, had his daughter in his arms. - - - - - CHAPTER XI. ILLUMINATION - - -The life of the Reverend Titus E. Laurie contained two active -principles. The first of these was a tireless enthusiasm for the -propagation of the principles of Methodist Christianity, and this had -moved him ever since he could remember. The second was solicitude for -his daughter Margaret, which, necessarily, had been operative for only -the last twenty years. During these twenty years he had been absent -from America almost all the time; the total number of weeks he had -spent with Margaret would scarcely have aggregated a year; so that his -affection was obliged to take the form of voluminous letters from -out-of-the-way places in Asia and Polynesia, and of remittances of -more money than he could afford. - -But his religious work took always first place in his mind. There -never was, one might suppose, a man more clearly “called to the work” -than Titus E. Laurie. He cared little for theology. He had never had -any doubts of anything; if he had had them, they would not have -troubled him. His temper was purely practical, and the ideal which -filled his soul was the redemption of the world from its state of sin -and death by the forces of the gospel as systematized by John Wesley. -He was tolerant of other Protestant churches, but not of Roman -Catholicism. He had preached when he was fifteen; at eighteen he was a -“local preacher,” and at twenty he was in full charge of a church of -his own in South Rock, New York. - -He was shifted about on that “circuit” according to the will of the -Conference till the opening of the war, when he went to the front as -an army nurse. In three months, however, he came back, vaguely in -disgrace. It appeared that he had been unable to resist the entreaties -of his patients, and had supplied them surreptitiously with tabooed -chewing tobacco and liquor. But this was an error of kindness and -inexperience; it was easily condoned by his supporters, and he resumed -his more regular pastoral work. In 1866 he was much in demand as a -revivalist. - -Mr. Laurie had charge of the funds of his church as well as of its -souls. It was hard for a non-producer to live in the period of high -prices succeeding the war. Just what he did with the money in his -custody was never definitely ascertained; probably he could not have -said himself; but he was unable to restore it when the time came. He -did not face his parishioners; he left in the night for Mexico, -leaving behind a letter of agonized remorse and promises of amendment. - -In Mexico he worked for two years in the mines and on a coffee -plantation, and sent home the whole amount of his embezzlement in -monthly instalments. At the same time he undertook to conduct -Methodist prayer-meetings among the mine labourers, who were chiefly -Indians and half-castes. This brought him into collision with his -employer, the local priest, and his prospective converts. He was -threatened, stoned, ducked, and menaced with murder, but he persisted -and actually succeeded in establishing a tiny Methodist community, -which survived for six months after he left it. - -Laurie was forgiven by his church, and returned to the North, but not -to resume pastoral work. He became a bookkeeper in New York; but the -evangelist’s instinct was too strong for him, and he took to mission -work on the lower East Side. After a year of this, he succeeded in -getting himself sent to the Sandwich Islands as a missionary, from -which post he returned in five years, in disgrace once more. There -were rumours of a shady transaction in smuggled opium, in which he had -been involved, though not to his own pecuniary benefit. - -He remained in America this time for three or four years, and married -a lady much older than himself. These domestic arrangements were -broken up, however, by his leaving once more for the South Seas, -having been able to secure another appointment for the mission field. -He never saw his wife again. She died a year later in giving birth to -a daughter, who was taken in charge by an aunt living in the West. - -Since that time his labours had extended over much of Polynesia, with -digressions into Africa and China. He had sailed the first missionary -schooner, the _Olive Branch_, among the Islands, and he had preached -on the beach to brown warriors armed to the teeth, who had never -before seen a white man. But the Reverend Titus E. Laurie escaped with -his life. He thrived on danger, from the Fiji spears to the typhoons -that came near to swamping his wretchedly found vessel on every -voyage. - -And yet he did not escape scathless. It was rumoured that the -fascinations of certain of his female converts in Tahiti had proved -too much for him; a scandal was averted by his leaving the station. He -was accused of pearling in forbidden waters; and in the end he had to -resign his command of the _Olive Branch_, as it was conclusively -proved that the missionary schooner had run opium in her hold with the -connivance of her chief. The Rev. Titus E. Laurie, in fact, was -granite against hostility when in the regular line of his work. He was -made of the stuff of martyrs, but responsibilities found him weak, and -he could no more make head against a sudden strong temptation than he -could deliberately plan a crime. - -Elliott gleaned these details of Mr. Laurie’s career by scraps in the -course of the next three weeks, but just how the missionary had come -to change his name and settle in Victoria was a mystery to him. At any -rate, Laurie, or Eaton, as he persisted in calling himself, had -secured a position as accountant in the godown of one of the largest -English importing firms, and seemed to propose to spend the remainder -of his life in that station. He had now been there for over two -months, and Elliott presently discovered that he was already in the -habit of visiting the mission settlement at Kowloon and taking part in -the meetings held there. The missionaries on duty found him a valuable -assistant, and, as Elliott discovered, had made proposals to him to -join them; but these Eaton had refused. - -Accustomed to the tropics, the heat did not affect him much, but -Elliott at once insisted that a house must be rented upon the Peak for -Miss Margaret. Coming directly from the sparkling air of the American -plains, the girl could never have lived in the hot steam of the lower -town. Laurie demurred a little on the score of expense,—not that he -grudged the money, but because he did not have it. Elliott said -nothing, but began to look about, and was lucky enough to obtain the -lease of a cottage upon the mountain-top at a nominal figure, -considering the locality. It had been taken by a retired naval officer -who was unexpectedly obliged to return to England and was glad to -dispose of the lease, so that Elliott bound himself to pay only eighty -dollars a month for the remainder of the summer. - -He had the lease transferred to Laurie’s new name. “If you say a word -to your daughter about this,” he warned him when he handed over the -document, “I’ll tell her about your sporting life in Macao.” - -The missionary smiled uneasily, and then looked grave. “I can never -begin to thank you, much less repay you. I am not much good -now,—nothing but a weak old man, but my prayers—” - -“Oh, cut it out!” said Elliott, impatiently. - -Laurie flushed. - -“I beg your pardon; I didn’t mean that, of course. Only, you know, -your daughter and I are old friends, and you mustn’t talk of gratitude -for any little thing I do.” - -“But there is one thing I wish,” replied the old man, after an -embarrassed moment. “I insist that you share the cottage with us.” - -Elliott hesitated, wondering whether it would be judicious, and -yielded. - -“Certainly I will,” he said, “and glad to have the chance.” - -Margaret was delighted at the appearance of the cottage, a tiny -bungalow, deep-verandahed, standing amid a grove of China pines that -rustled perpetually with a cooling murmur. The highway leading to it -was more like a conservatory than a street. - -“You dear old papa!” she exclaimed, sitting down rapturously upon the -steps, after having rushed through the building from front to rear, -startling the dignified and spotless Chinese cook which they had -inherited from the former tenants. - -“How good you are to get all this for me! It must have cost such a -lot, too. Mr. Elliott says that houses up here cost two hundred -dollars a month. You didn’t pay all that, did you? Now we must be very -economical, and we’ll all work. I’m going to discharge that Chinaman.” - -“You can’t work. You’d scandalize the Peak,” said Elliott. - -“I don’t care anything for the Peak. I’m going to fire that Chinee -first of all. I’m afraid of him, he looks so mysteriously solemn, as -if he knew all sorts of Oriental poisons, and I never can learn -pidgin-English. No, I’m going to cook, and I’ll make you doughnuts and -fried chicken and mashed potatoes and real American coffee and all the -good old United States things that you haven’t tasted for so long.” - -“But you can’t do anything like that. No white woman works in this -country,” Elliott expostulated. - -“But I shall,” she retorted, firmly. - -And she did,—or, rather, she tried hard to do it. But it turned out to -be difficult, and often impossible, to procure the ingredients for the -preparation of the promised American dishes, and she was by increasing -degrees forced back upon the fare of the country, which she did not -quite know how to deal with. It did not matter,—not even when it came -to living chiefly upon canned goods, which usually were American -enough to satisfy the most ardent patriot. The three had come to -regard the affair in the light of a prolonged picnic, and they agreed -that it was too hot to eat doughnuts and fried chicken, anyway. - -Laurie still went down the mountain to the sweltering lower city every -morning and did not return till sunset. Elliott and Margaret usually -spent the day together, for he had temporarily abandoned the search -for the mate. An unconquerable horror of the town had filled him, and -he silenced an uneasy conscience by telling himself that he would -learn nothing new if he did go there. - -Sometimes he helped Margaret to wash the breakfast things, and then he -sat lazily in a long chair on the wide veranda, smoking an excellent -Manila cheroot and reading the _China Daily Mail_. He could hear -Margaret softly moving about inside the house; she dropped casual -remarks to him through the open window, and usually she ended by -coming out and sitting with him, reading or sewing with an industry -that even the climate could not tame. Below them the steamy -rain-clouds drifted and wavered over the city; Hongkong Roads ran like -a zigzag strip of gray steel out to the ocean, but it was cool, if -damp, upon the Peak, and the two had reached such a degree of intimacy -that sometimes for an hour they did not say a word. - -To Elliott this period bore an inexpressible charm. For many years his -associates had been almost altogether men, the rough and strong men of -action of the West; and the graceful domesticity that a womanly woman -instinctively gathers about her was new to him, or so old that it was -almost forgotten. They were alone together, for the ex-missionary -scarcely counted, and they knew no one else on the Island. It was -almost as if the Island had been a desert one, and they wrecked upon -it. They were isolated in the midst of this great, torrid, bustling -half-Chinese colony, and in that most improbable spot he found a -little corner of perfume with such quiet and peace as he had scarcely -imagined. He did not quite understand its charm, and he was not much -given to analyzing his sensations. It was enough for him that he was -happy as he had never been before in his life, and he thanked the -treasure trail for leading him to this, and tried to forget that the -trail was not yet ended. - -But he was astonished to find that Margaret made no reference to her -father’s change of name, and seemed to accept it with as little -surprise as if she supposed an alias to be a regular Anglo-Chinese -custom. Elliott was afraid to speak of the matter, but his amazement -grew till he could no longer restrain his curiosity, and he asked her -one morning, pointblank. - -“Miss Margaret, do you know why your father has changed his name?” - -“Yes, I know,” she replied, looking slightly troubled. “I can’t tell -you the reason, though. But it was for nothing disgraceful,—though I -don’t need to tell you that. He had to do it; I can’t say any more.” - -“I beg your pardon—I merely wondered—of course I knew there was some -good reason. It was none of my business, anyway,” Elliott blundered, -privately wondering what fiction Laurie had dished up for his -daughter’s consumption. - -“There is the best of reasons. My father is one of the noblest men in -the world. You don’t know him yet, but he knows you. He is very keen, -and he has been studying you; he told me so.” - -“Oh!” said Elliott. - -“Yes. And he has the very highest opinion of you, I may tell you, if -your modesty will stand it. He says you have helped him a great deal. -Have you?” - -“Not so far as I know.” - -“Well, he thinks you have, which comes to the same thing. Some day he -may be able to do something for you—something really great.” - -“He has done it already in bringing you out here,” said Elliott, and -was sorry directly he had said it. - -“I don’t like speeches like that,” said Miss Margaret. “Now, you’ve -never told me why you are here yourself.” - -“Didn’t I tell you that I came on business?” - -“Yes, but what sort of business? Another hunt for easy fortunes, I -suppose, such as you promised to give up. How much do you stand to win -this time?” - -“What would you say if I said millions?” - -“I’d say that you didn’t appear to be looking for them very hard.” - -Elliott squirmed in the long chair and moaned plaintively. - -“I haven’t seen you looking for them at all, in fact. Since we moved -to the Peak, you’ve done nothing but sit in that long chair.” - -“Yes, hang it, you’re right,” Elliott exclaimed, sitting up. “It’s -true. I’ve been wasting my time for two weeks, spending my partners’ -money and not doing the work I’m paid to do.” - -“You must do it, then. Tell me, what is it?” - -“No, I can’t tell it, not even to you. It’s not my own secret. I’ve -got three partners in it, and my particular task is to hunt down a man -whom I never set eyes on. I’ve chased him a matter of ten thousand -miles, and he’s supposed to be somewhere in this city,” looking down -at the wet smoke that hung over the bustling port. - -Somewhere under that haze was the clue to the drowned million, and he -felt the shame of his idleness. He had been philandering away his -time, and at this juncture when every day was priceless. He turned -back to the girl. - -“Thank you for waking me up. Your advice always comes at the -psychological moment,” he said. “My holiday’s over. To-morrow I start -work again.” - -He went down to the city that afternoon, in fact, but the old -perplexity returned upon him when he tried to think how and where he -was to begin his search. He went the rounds of the steamer offices and -scrutinized the outgoing passenger-lists for the past three weeks. -There was no name that he recognized. He tried the consulates again -without any result. He could think of no new move, and he was -irritated at his own lack of resource. - -Yet the Hongkong Club was the centre of all the foreign life of the -colony; it was visited daily by almost every white man on the island, -and if Burke, or Baker, were in the city, he would be certain to -gravitate there sooner or later. So Elliott took to spending days in -that institution, eagerly scrutinizing every big-boned elderly man of -seafaring appearance who entered. But, as he often reflected, he might -rub elbows with his man daily and not know it; and he regretted more -than ever that he had not obtained a full description of the mate. - -After a week of this sedentary sort of man-hunting, he became imbued -with a deep sense of the futility of the thing. It was only by the -merest chance that he could hope to learn anything. It was chance that -had assisted the affair up to the present; the whole scheme was one -gigantic gamble, discovered, financed, and operated by sheer good -luck, and the run seemed exhausted. Anyhow, he thought fatalistically, -good fortune was as likely to strike him on the Peak as in the city, -and he took to spending his days on the veranda once more. He cabled -again to Henninger: - -“Track totally lost. What shall do?” - -Still, he did not totally abandon the search, but rather he made it a -pretext for little exploring expeditions round the city and suburbs -with Margaret, accompanied by her father when he could get away from -business. They prowled about Kowloon, and they all visited Macao -together, where Laurie exhibited the blandest oblivion of his recent -lapse, and lectured his companions most edifyingly upon the curse of -gambling, the degeneracy of the Portuguese race, and the corruption of -the Church of Rome. - -They visited the shipyards opposite Hongkong, saw the naval -headquarters and the missionary station, and, a week later, all three -of them crossed to Formosa on Saturday and returned on Sunday, merely -for the refreshing effect of the open sea breezes. - -The heavy Chinese smell came off the coast as they returned into -Hongkong Roads late on Sunday night. Elliott sickened at the thought -of resuming the search that had become hateful to him, in a city that, -but for one thing, had become intolerable. - -Margaret was leaning over the bows with him, watching the prow rise -and fall in splashes of orange and gold phosphorescence. The -missionary was dozing in a chair somewhere astern. A score of coolies -were gambling and talking loudly between decks. - -“This is all so wonderful to me!” said Margaret, suddenly. “Only a -month or two ago I was in Nebraska, but it seems years. I had never -seen anything; I had no idea what a great and wonderful place the -world was. I think of it all, and I sometimes wonder if I am the same -girl. But do you know what it makes me think most? - -“It makes me feel,” she went on, as Elliott did not reply, “how great -and noble my father must be to have given his life to help this great, -swarming heathen world. I never knew there were so many heathens; I -thought they were mostly Methodists and Episcopalians. Don’t you think -he really is the best man in the world?” - -“I never saw a man so full of high ideals,” Elliott answered. - -He had answered at random, scarcely listening to what she said. But -the sound of her voice through the darkness had brought illumination -to him, and he realized why he had shrunk from returning to the -gold-hunt. He had found a higher ideal himself, and as he thought of -his years and years of ineffectual, topsyturvy scrambling after a -fortune which he would not have known how to keep if he had found, -they seemed to him inexpressibly futile and childish. He had missed -what was most worth while in life—but it was not too late. He hoped, -and doubted, and his heart beat suddenly with an almost painful -thrilling. - -Her white muslin sleeve almost touched his shoulder, but her face was -turned from him, looking wide-eyed toward the dark China coast. He -knew that she was meditating upon the virtues of her evangelistic -father. He did not speak, but she turned her head quickly and looked -at him, with a puzzled, almost frightened glance. - -“What’s the matter?” he said, almost in a whisper. - -“I don’t know,” Margaret murmured, and her eyes dropped. For a moment -she stood silent; she seemed to palpitate; then she roused herself -with a little shrug. - -“I am nervous to-night. For a moment I had a shudder—I felt as if -something had happened, or was happening—I don’t know what. Come, -let’s go back and find father. We’re nearly in.” She thrust her arm -under his with a return to her usual frank confidence. - -“I’m so glad you’re here, too,” she said, impulsively. - -This was not what Elliott wanted, not what he had seen revealed -suddenly between the blaze of the stars and the flame of the sea. But -he would not tell her so—not yet. Not for anything would he shatter -their open comradeship. - - - - - CHAPTER XII. OPEN WAR - - -The day after he returned from Formosa, Elliott received a reply to -his cablegram, which said, simply: - - “Find it. Buck up! - - “Henninger.” - -It was easy to give the order, Elliott thought. But during the next -few days the heat was terrible, even for Hongkong. On the Peak, men -sweltered; in the lower city, they died. It rained, without cease, a -rain that seemed to steam up from the hot earth as fast as it fell, -and, to add terror to discomfort, half a dozen cases of cholera were -discovered in the Chinese city, and an epidemic was feared. Most of -the offices employing white clerks closed daily at noon, and there was -a great exodus of the foreign population to Yokohama. - -On Sunday it cooled slightly, however, and the rain ceased. To gain -what advantage they could of the respite, Margaret and Elliott walked -out to the edge of the mountain-top, a quarter of a mile away, and -spent the forenoon there. The missionary dozed at home; he slept a -great deal during the hot weather. - -They were returning for lunch, which Margaret persistently refused to -call “tiffin,” and had almost reached the bungalow, when a man stepped -down from the veranda and came toward them along the deeply shaded -street. At the first glance Elliott thought he recognized the -graceful, alert figure, and he was right. It was Sevier, who had just -left the house. - -The Alabaman stopped short when he met them, and lifted his hat, -without, however, betraying any particular surprise. - -“Good mo’nin’, Elliott. So you’re in Hongkong?” - -“As you see,” replied Elliott, a trifle stiffly. “Were you looking for -me?” - -“Not particularly. I was looking for another man.” - -“How long have you been here?” - -“Oh, about a couple of weeks.” - -There was a pause, which Elliott felt to be a nervous one. - -“How are the bereaved relatives of your wreck’s crew?” Sevier went on. - -“I don’t know. Have you found the man you were looking for?” - -“Not exactly. Have you?” - -“No.” - -There was another pause. Margaret was looking puzzled and impatient. - -“I beg your pardon, I’m delaying you,” said Sevier, with a slight bow -toward the girl. “I wish you’d dine with me at the Club to-night at -seven o’clock. Can you? I have an idea that I can tell you something -that you’d be glad to know.” - -Elliott reflected for a moment, with some suspicion. “Thank you, I -shall be delighted,” he accepted, formally, at last. - -“At seven o’clock,” repeated Sevier, bowing once more, and passing on. - -“Who was that man? I never saw him before. What were you talking -about?” demanded Margaret, when they were out of earshot. - -“To tell you the truth, I don’t exactly know,” Elliott replied, in a -sort of abstracted excitement. - -Margaret went to her own room to take off her hat, and Elliott turned -into the big, darkened sitting-room, where he was confronted with the -spectacle of the missionary seated beside the table with his head -buried in his arms. - -“What did that man want here?” Elliott demanded, hastily. “Why, what’s -the matter with you?” - -Laurie raised a face that was covered with perspiration, and haggard -with some emotion. His mouth trembled, and he looked half-dazed. - -“That man!” he moaned, vaguely. “Oh, that man!” - -“Yes. What did he want?” - -“What did he want?” repeated Laurie, clearly incapable of coherent -thought. “Oh, heavens! what did he not want?” - -Elliott mixed an iced glass of water and lime juice, for the -missionary would never touch spirits. - -“Here, drink this, and try to brace up,” he said. - -Laurie drank it like a docile child, and looked up with frightened -eyes. - -“I have done wrong,” he said, pathetically. “I have sinned often. I -have fallen times past counting.” - -“I know it,” said Elliott. “What have you been doing now?” - -“The question is, what am I going to do?” replied the old man, with a -flash of animation. “It has all been for her—whatever errors I have -made. No one can say that I have ever profited by a dollar that was -not honestly my own.” - -“Well—all right. But for goodness’ sake try to tell me what Sevier was -asking about.” - -Laurie hesitated for a long time. - -“It was about the ship—the _Clara McClay_” he produced, at last. - -Elliott stared, speechless for a moment, shocked into utter -bewilderment. - -“The _Clara McClay_?” he babbled. “The—” he was going to say the -“gold-ship.” - -“What do you know about her? Where did you hear of her?” - -“I was on her. I was wrecked with her.” - -“The devil you were!” - -“Yes, wrecked, and saved only by the Lord’s wonderful mercy. I floated -about for days in an open boat.” - -“Look here,” said Elliott. “I rather fancy that you’re running more -risk now than you were in that open boat. You don’t know what deep -waters you’re sailing. Sevier’s a dangerous man. If you want me to -help you, you’ll have to tell me the whole story.” - -The missionary acquiesced with the alacrity which he always showed in -casting his mundane responsibilities upon stronger shoulders. - -“I am ashamed to tell you the story,” he said. “And yet it was not my -fault. At least, I had no intention of doing any wrong whatever. I was -in the work at Durban under the British Mission Board. I had been -there for two years, and I may say that my efforts had been abundantly -blessed,” he added, with humble pride. - -“But I was tempted, and I was weak. I had a large sum of money in my -hands—nearly five hundred dollars—which the Board had supplied for the -building of a new chapel. I did not covet it for myself, but my salary -was long overdue, and it was past my time to send a remittance to my -daughter. The fund would not be needed for months, and I would have -paid back every cent of it.” - -“So you took it,” Elliott interrupted. - -“I sent the remittance. About two weeks later an officer of the -Mission Society came through South Africa, and I was called upon for -an account of the fund. I was disgraced. I could have escaped, but I -would not do that. I started to England in charge of the officer to be -tried for embezzlement. There was an American steamer sailing from -Durban, and we embarked on her. The name of the steamer was the _Clara -McClay_. - -“I stayed in my cabin all the time, so I do not know anything of the -voyage. I believe we called at Delagoa Bay for cargo and passengers. -We had been out over a week when the ship struck. It was very dark, -with a high sea running, and she seemed to be breaking up. They -launched several boats, but all were sunk before they left the ship’s -side. - -“The Society’s officer went in one of them and tried to induce me to -go with him, but I have been many years at sea, and I knew the risk of -trying to launch boats in that position. He was drowned, with most of -the ship’s company. At daylight there were only five of us left,—the -mate, three Boers who had been passengers, and myself. The sea was -quieter then, and we managed to get the last of the boats overboard -and to get clear. - -“The mate had been severely injured about the head by falling from the -bridge when she struck, and I felt sure that he could not live unless -we were picked up soon. There was no use in landing on the desert reef -where we had struck, so we sailed north with a fair wind, for there -was fortunately a sail in the boat. We hoped to get into the track of -India-bound vessels,—or at least I hoped for it, for the Boers knew -nothing of navigation, and the mate was growing to be either delirious -or unconscious most of the time. - -“It was a week before we were picked up. I won’t tell you of its -horrors. The water ran out, under the sun of the equator. The Boers -drank sea-water, in spite of everything I could say, and all three -went mad and threw themselves overboard. I just managed to keep alive -and to keep the mate alive by dipping myself frequently in the sea and -drenching his clothes with the bailer. But he died about the fourth -day. He was conscious for a few hours before he died, and I did what I -could to prepare his mind. - -“I had to throw his body overboard. I could not have kept it in the -boat—in that heat. But I kept his oilskin clothes and his uniform cap, -thinking they might be needful. He had nearly a hundred pounds in -sovereigns in a belt, also, which he told me to take, as he had no -relatives, and I took them. - -“It rained the night after he died, and that saved me. Two days later -I was picked up by an Italian steamer, called the _Andrea Sforzia_.” - -Elliott emitted an ejaculation. - -“Yes, it was providential,” went on the missionary, patiently. “And -then I saw an opportunity of burying my past. I trust it was not -dishonourable. The Italian officers of the steamer could speak very -little English, and as I was wearing the mate’s uniform cap they took -me to be an officer of the wrecked ship. I would not have told them a -falsehood, but I did not undeceive them. They took me to Bombay, and -they made me go to the American consul, but I escaped as soon as I -could, and concealed myself in the city for a couple of weeks. Then I -came on to Hongkong, where I hoped—” - -“Do you know just where the _Clara McClay_ was wrecked?” Elliott -demanded, trying to keep cool in the face of this revelation. - -“That is what that man asked me. It must have been off the northwest -coast of Madagascar.” - -“But don’t you know the exact spot?” - -“How could I? I was never out of my cabin till the night she struck.” - -Elliott burst into a bitter and uncontrollable roar of laughter. This, -then, was the end of the trail he had followed from the centre of the -United States at such expense and with such hopes. It ended in a man -with whom he had unsuspectingly lived for a month, an aged -ex-missionary of infirm moral habits. - -“That man who was here asked me the same thing,” repeated Laurie, -plaintively. “Why did he want to know where she struck—or why do you -want to know? My God! I had almost forgotten it!” he cried, -shuddering. “What shall I do? How can I save myself?” - -“What on earth do you mean?” cried Elliott. - -“He threatened me with disgrace—and arrest, unless I would tell him -where the ship went down. He said he would expose me to the British -Mission Board—and he would put all the proofs of—of more than that, of -other things, in the hands of my daughter. I deserve to be punished. I -can face even disgrace for myself—but not for her—not for my little -girl.” - -“No, she mustn’t hear of anything of the sort,” said Elliott. He -considered the situation for several minutes, walking to and fro. “Why -did you tell everybody that the ship went down in deep water?” he -asked. - -The missionary started. “How did you know that I did? It was a sudden -temptation. The consul in Bombay asked me if she foundered at sea, and -I said she did. It made no difference to any one, and it seemed safer. -You must remember the state I was in, after a week in an open boat -without water.” - -“Well, don’t worry,” said Elliott. “I dare say you didn’t mean any -harm, but that little remark of yours has cost a good deal of trouble -and a good many thousand dollars. But I’ll see that Sevier doesn’t -trouble you. I know him pretty well. I’m going to dine with him -to-night, in fact, and I’ll explain things to him.” - -Laurie brightened wonderfully at this assurance. During the past month -he had come to have an almost childlike trust in Elliott’s powers of -saving him from troubles, and at lunch he had almost recovered his -customary serene benignity. But Elliott was far from that placid state -of mind. The whole campaign would have to be altered. There was now no -hope of learning the location of the wreck from any of her survivors. -So far as he could see, there was only the chance of searching all -that portion of the channel till her bones were discovered, and it was -ten to one that the Arab coasters would have been before them. But at -any rate he could now meet Sevier without fear; he had no longer any -plan to conceal. - -He spent that afternoon in anxious thought, and finally wrote a long -letter to Henninger, detailing his adventures on the man-hunt that had -ended in a mare’s nest. As the letter might take over a month to reach -Zanzibar, he stopped at the cable office on his way to the Club, and -sent the following message: - -“Mate dead, taking secret with him. Shall I join you? Letter follows.” - -Sevier was waiting for him when he arrived at the Club’s massive -façade, and a table was already reserved in the farthest corner of the -dining-room. The air was heavy under the swinging punkahs, for it had -come on to rain again, and the drip and splash of the streets came -through the open windows. - -They discussed the soup in silence, and with the introduction of a -violently flavoured entrée they talked of the rain. - -“The weather’s no fit subject for conversation in this country,” -Sevier broke off all at once. “Look here, Elliott, you’re up against -it, aren’t you?” - -“I don’t know that I am, particularly,” answered the treasure-hunter, -coolly. “You’re in something of a blind alley yourself, I fancy.” - -“I don’t mind admitting that I am, for the moment. What do you know -about the _Clara McClay_?” - -“Nothing—except that she was wrecked.” - -“But you know what her cargo was?” - -“Yes, I do. Do you know where that cargo is now?” - -“No, I don’t. But she never sunk in deep water—I know that. She’s -ashore somewhere in the Mozambique Channel. Now I propose to you, -Elliott, that we join forces. You’re playing a lone hand, I reckon, -and it takes money to play a game like this. I have a partner with me, -and we’ve got $25,000 to spend. What do you say?” - -“I’d like to hear a little more,” said Elliott. - -“Well, I’ll play my cards face up. Look here. That gold was stolen -from the treasury at Pretoria by a gang of crooked Dutchmen. You may -know that. My partner, Carlton, was in Pretoria at the time, and he -got wind of it, and found out what ship it was going to be sent on. Do -you know what we did? We squared the ship’s mate, Burke, to pile the -old hooker up on the Afu Bata reef, off Mozambique. It cost us five -thousand cash to make the deal with him, and we had to promise him a -share of the plunder. Now do you see why we’re interested?” - -Elliott saw, and he saw furthermore that the affair was revealing -mazes of complexity that he had not suspected. - -“Yes,” he said, trying not to look surprised. “Then you must know -where she was wrecked, after all.” - -“No, because the mate threw us down—the thief! He took our money and -did us dirt. We hung around the Afu Bata reef in a dhow for three -weeks, off and on, and the _Clara McClay_ never showed up. At last we -put into Zanzibar, and found that she hadn’t been sighted anywhere -since she left Lorenzo Marques. A little later we heard that she had -been wrecked, and that the mate had been picked up, and that he had -said that she was sunk in deep water.” - -“But that wasn’t the mate at all,” Elliott remarked. - -“Yes, I know. I heard the story from that sanctimonious old hypocrite -on the Peak. But it was the mate that sunk her. It was Burke that ran -her ashore somewhere and figured to have all the plunder himself. It -wasn’t his fault that he got drowned or whatever happened to him. The -question now is—where is that wreck?” - -Elliott laughed. “Good Lord, that’s the question I’ve been trying to -solve for three months.” - -“There is one man that knows.” - -“Who is it?” - -“Your old sky-pilot” - -“You’re all wrong,” said Elliott. “Old Laurie, or Eaton, knows nothing -at all about the thing. And I should like to know how in the world you -came to take up his trail.” - -“The same as you did, I expect,” replied Sevier, winking. “We went -from Zanzibar up to Port Said, and waited there till we heard about -the mate being picked up and going to Bombay. I went there too, as you -know, having the honour to be your fellow passenger, but I never -suspected you of being interested in the wreck—not at first. - -“In Bombay I lost the trail, same as you did. But when I heard the -American consul describe his man I made sure it couldn’t be the real -mate. It was some fakir, and why should anybody fake the thing unless -he was up to some game. It made me keener than ever. Lord! I worked -like a slave in that accursed city. I searched every consulate, and -the hotels and the boarding-houses. I found that a man answering my -description had come to the Planters’ Hotel about the time the -counterfeit mate turned up. I found that he had gone—sailed for -Hongkong under a different name. I cabled Carlton, my partner, and we -came here. - -“It was you who helped us here. I spotted you on the street a week -ago, had you followed to the Peak, and there you were, living hand in -glove with my fakir. I went up there this morning, after learning that -you had gone out, and I put the question straight to the white-headed -old hypocrite. He went all to pieces, just as I expected, but he -wouldn’t tell me anything. However, we have a way to force him.” - -“Lost labour,” remarked Elliott, coolly. “He didn’t know even that the -_Clara McClay_ was loaded with gold.” - -“Don’t you believe it!” said Sevier, leaning impressively across the -table. “Elliott, that old parson is the slipperiest beggar between -Africa and Oregon. I know all about his doings in the past. As like as -not he murdered the mate himself—” - -Elliott gave an exclamation of derision. - -“Anyhow, I’m sure that he made up a plant with Burke to turn the trick -on us. He knows where that gold is now; you can bank on that! And if -you’ve been living with him for a month and don’t know too, you’re not -the clever man I take you to be.” - -“I think you’re just a little too clever yourself,” Elliott replied. -“I’ll play my cards face up, too. I know just as much as you do about -the location of that wreck, and that old missionary doesn’t know half -as much. You’ve sized up his character wrong. He’s merely a simple, -kind-hearted, unworldly old gentleman with no moral backbone. If he -knew where all that gold was, I don’t believe he’d go after it. He -might steal a hundred dollars if he saw it lying handy and happened to -need it, but he wouldn’t take any interest in a million that he -couldn’t see. As for his conspiring with Burke, much less killing him, -that’s sheer bosh. He doesn’t know where the _Clara McClay_ is, and I -don’t either.” - -“You’re too secretive for me,” said Sevier, looking downcast. “You -won’t mind if I say candidly that I think you’re bluffing. Don’t tell -me that you haven’t found out anything from that fellow Laurie, or -Eaton, as he calls himself. Something is preventing you from sailing -back to Africa and fishing up that million. I think we can supply what -is lacking to you. We need you; you need us. Then join us, and we’ll -work together.” - -“You are right,” Elliott agreed. “There is something that prevents me -from going there, and that is the fact that I don’t know where to go. -But I don’t mind admitting that I’m going to try to find out. I have -partners with me, too, and we have a little money to throw away.” - -“How many partners have you?” Sevier inquired. - -“Three.” - -“Well, bring them all in. We’ll share and share alike.” - -Elliott seriously considered this proposition for a couple of minutes. -But he knew that Henninger would accept no such arrangement. - -“I couldn’t make such a deal without consulting the other men,” he -said. “And I know that the chief of our gang would never stand for it. -He’s rather a whole hog or nothing man, and I’m a little that way -myself. No, I’m afraid we’ll have to work separately.” - -“Is that your final word?” - -“Absolutely.” - -“Well, I’m sorry. Excuse me a moment,” said Sevier, getting up -hastily. He went out of the dining-room, but returned almost -immediately. “I just then caught sight of a man I wanted to speak to,” -he explained. “Then I can’t induce you to go shares with us?” - -“I’m afraid not, thank you,” replied Elliott - -“It’s a fair race for a million, then, and let the best man win! But -it seems a fool business for us to cut one another’s throats. We’ve -made you the best proposals we can, but we feel that we have prior -rights on that cargo, and we’ll fight for it if necessary.” - -“We’ll try to meet you half-way,” said Elliott carelessly. “And isn’t -it absurd to talk of prior rights when the whole thing is little -better than a steal?” - -“A steal? Not a bit of it. The ship is sunk outside the three-mile -limit in neutral seas. It’s treasure-trove.” - -“I’ve been trying to look at it that way myself,” replied Elliott. -“But I fancy some government or other would claim it if they heard of -it It’s war, then, is it?” - -“That’ll come soon enough. Let’s have peace while we can,” Sevier -responded, poking at the roast beef, which lay a tepid and soggy mass -on his plate. “I must apologize to my guest. I’ve spoiled your dinner -for you. It’s stone cold—or as near it as anything ever gets in this -country. Let me order some more.” - -“No—don’t!” said Elliott, sickening at the thought of food in that -reeking atmosphere. “It’s too hot and wet to eat. This climate is -getting too much for me.” - -“Thinking of trying Africa? Look here, you come around to my place, -and I’ll mix you a cold drink, anyway. I found a plant the other day -that tastes like mint, and I’ll give you as close an imitation of a -Baltimore julep as can be had in China.” - -There were half a dozen palanquins waiting about the front of the Club -as usual, and Sevier gave the coolies an address which Elliott did not -catch. The bearers left Queen’s Road and turned up a street leading to -the mountain, which they ascended for several minutes, and finally -they stopped in the rain, which was now falling heavily. It was one of -the beautiful and shaded streets half-way up the slope, and they were -opposite a small bungalow that showed a glimmer of light through drawn -rattan shutters. - -“This is where Carlton and I have lived for the last fortnight,” said -Sevier, getting out. “We can’t afford residences on the Peak, like -you—and, Lord! how we have sizzled here!” - -He led the way to the door, which he opened with a latch-key, and -turned into a large sitting-room, lighted with an oil-lamp. The floor -was bare; the room was almost devoid of furniture, containing only a -couple of long chairs, a camp-chair, and a plain wooden table. On the -table was the remnants of a meal, with a couple of empty ale-bottles. -The windows were shut and closely covered with the blinds, and the air -of the room was intolerably hot and close. - -“Carlton’s been dining by himself to-night,” said Sevier, without -appearing to observe the heat. “He’ll be back in a few minutes, and -meanwhile we’ll have our drink.” - -He produced a bottle from an ice-box, and was crushing some ice, when -the door clicked open and shut again. A heavily built man appeared, -his white duck clothing hanging limply upon him. - -“How are you, old man!” said Sevier, glancing up. “Elliott, this is my -friend, Mr. Carlton. He knows all about you.” - -Carlton acknowledged the introduction by a nod and a searching glance. -He was a dark and heavy-faced man of perhaps forty, with a thick brown -moustache over lips that were small and close, and a small cold gray -eye. - -“Glad to meet you, Mr. Elliott. Yes, I’ve heard of you,” he remarked, -briefly. He sat down in the vacant cane chair and began to fill a -curved briar pipe, which he smoked with much apparent satisfaction. - -Sevier presently handed around three glasses crowned with the Chinese -herb that tasted like mint. The whole concoction did not taste much -like a Southern julep, but it was cooling. “Here’s luck for all of -us!” said Sevier, and they drank. - -There was a silence for a time, while the heat grew more and more -unbearable. - -“Why not have a window open?” Elliott inquired, at last. “Don’t you -find it hot here?” - -“No. Leave them closed,” said Carlton, brusquely. - -There was another long silence, while Carlton smoked imperturbably. -Elliott began to feel slightly nervous; he scarcely knew why. Every -one in the room seemed to be waiting for something. - -“Damn the rain!” Sevier suddenly ejaculated with irritation, and -Carlton rolled an admonishing eye upon him without speaking. Elliott -set down his empty glass and arose. - -“Have another drink,” urged Sevier. “Sit down.” - -“No, thank you. I must go,” Elliott began. - -“No. Sit down!” Carlton gruffly interrupted. - -Taken by surprise, Elliott sat down. The rain splashed on the veranda -in the silence. - -“But I really must go. I have to get to the Peak,” he said again, once -more getting up; but Sevier held up a warning hand. Outside was heard -the rhythmical grunt of sedan-coolies. There were steps on the -veranda. Sevier hurried to the door and opened it, and, to Elliott’s -amazement, the missionary appeared in the lamplight, his face -streaming with rain and perspiration, while he surveyed the group with -an air of apprehension which he endeavoured to cover with dignity. - - - - - CHAPTER XIII. FIRST BLOOD - - -“You sent for me, I think,—gentlemen—” hesitated Laurie, still -standing near the doorway. - -Sevier bustled forward, led him in and closed the door. “Yes, yes, -certainly. It was mighty good of you to come. Your friend is here -already, you see.” - -“I didn’t send for you. What did you come here for?” demanded Elliott, -his mind becoming clouded with suspicions. - -“It was this gentleman,” said the missionary, indicating Carlton with -evident distrust. “He ordered me to come here—in terms that I could -not well refuse. What do you want me to do?” - -“Very little, and nothing hard,” Sevier answered, brightly. He brought -another chair from an adjoining room, and placed it beside the table. -“Sit down. Will you have a drink? No? Well, we merely want you to tell -us what you know of the wreck of the _Clara McClay_.” - -Laurie was trembling visibly. “I told you this morning what I know. Do -you want me to go over it again?” - -“Oh, no. Not that. We want to know where the wreck lies.” - -“I told you that I know no more about it than you do,” protested the -missionary. “How could I, when I was always in my cabin till she -struck, and then adrift in an open boat for a week?” - -“That won’t do!” broke in Carlton, stonily. “Out with it!” - -“My dear sir, don’t be unreasonable,” Laurie pleaded. “How can I tell -you things I know nothing of?” - -Carlton looked at him for a moment, and then turned with a nod to -Sevier. The young Alabaman produced a long, heavy strap from under the -table, and with a movement of incredible celerity he dropped the loop -over Laurie’s head and shoulders. In another second he was buckled -fast to the back of his chair, before he had comprehended that -anything was happening. He gave a shrill cry of alarm as the strap -drew tight, however, and Elliott jumped to his feet. - -“What do you mean?” he cried. “This is an outrage! Set that man loose -instantly.” - -He stepped forward to release the strap himself, but Carlton met him. -“Don’t be a fool, Elliott,” advised the big man. “Ah! there now, you -will have it!” - -Elliott had tried to strike, but Carlton gripped him by the wrists -like a vise. There was a brief tussle, while the missionary wriggled -in the chair, but he could not free himself from that steel grasp. - -“See if he’s armed, Sevier,” advised Carlton, coolly, and the Alabaman -ran his hands over Elliott’s captive person. There were no weapons. - -“We don’t want to hurt you, Elliott,” said Sevier, “but I’m afraid -we’ll have to strap you up likewise to keep you from hurting yourself. -Don’t be frightened. There isn’t going to be any bloodshed, but we’ve -got to get the story out of that old fakir by hook or crook.” - -Another noose dropped over Elliott’s head, pinioning his arms to his -sides. He kicked Carlton on the shins, and fell with the recoil, and -before he could regain his feet Carlton was sitting on his chest and -Sevier was binding his ankles together. They placed him in a sitting -posture against the wall, helpless as a sack. - -“It’s so hot that it would be cruel to gag you,” added Sevier, -considerately, “but if you yell we’ll have to stuff a handkerchief -into your mouth.” - -“Yes, keep your mouth shut,” advised Carlton. “Get the battery, -Sevier.” - -Sevier went into the next room and returned with a box of polished -wood, about a foot in diameter, which he placed upon the table. In -three more journeys he brought out the six large glass cells of an -electric battery, and proceeded to twist their wires together, -connecting the terminals with the wooden box. - -Elliott, breathless with rage, struggling, and heat, watched these -preparations from where he sat, and understood them. The missionary -was to be tortured with the current from a strong induction coil. -There was some relief in this knowledge, for, he thought, the effects -of the current might be unpleasant, but certainly would not be -dangerous, not even exactly painful. - -Laurie struggled violently when they came to tie his elbows to the -arms of the chair, but he was easily overpowered. The ends of the -insulated wires terminated in brass strips, and they bound these upon -the under side of his wrists. - -“All right,” said Carlton, calmly. “Turn it on.” - -A rapid buzzing arose from the box, and the missionary’s body was -agitated by a strong spasm. His shoulders heaved stiffly, and his -whole body strained tensely against the strap across his chest till -the leather creaked. But he kept his teeth tight shut. - -If the induction coil had been known to the judicial torturers of the -middle ages it would certainly have been the favourite method of -applying “the question.” Its peculiarity is that without injuring the -tissues to the slightest degree, it racks the nerves, breaks down the -will, and lacerates the soul itself. But still Laurie remained silent. -Under this direct attack he had evidently summoned up the courage that -had made him one of the most intrepid of the pioneers of the Cross in -heathendom. Sevier shut off the current. - -“Are you ready to tell us now?” demanded the adventurer. - -“No,” said the missionary, between his teeth. - -Elliott admired the old man’s determination, and wondered. He realized -that he had not yet seen all the sides of Laurie’s peculiar -personality. He tried hard to free himself without being observed, and -lacerated his wrists, but could not get a shade of purchase on his -bonds. - -“A peg stronger this time,” advised Carlton, relighting his pipe. - -The contact-breaker buzzed again, and Laurie strained against the -strap. His face became livid; the perspiration streamed down his -cheeks, and his blue eyes were set in an anguished glare. His whole -body twitched frightfully under his bonds, and his heels drummed upon -the floor. Elliott looked on in impotent horror. - -“Oh, here! I can’t stand this!” said Sevier, averting his eyes. - -“Shut off. Now will you talk?” said Carlton. - -Laurie made no answer, but lay heavily back, his muscles still -twitching. They waited; he gasped spasmodically, but did not speak. - -“Again—and a little more current,” commanded Carlton, and Sevier -obeyed with a look of disgust. Laurie’s form was torn by a terrible -convulsion. His mouth opened and shut, and an inarticulate cry came -from his lips. The coil buzzed for almost two minutes. - -“Give him a moment,” Carlton said, without emotion. “Now will you tell -us? Very well; turn it on again, Sevier.” - -“No! no!” gasped the missionary. “I will—tell—you—” - -“Good. Speak up.” - -Laurie lay back and breathed heavily, and with great gulps. He -trembled violently in every muscle, but came slowly back to -self-control. - -“Are you going to tell us?” Carlton repeated. - -“No! Not a word!” the missionary exclaimed, with nervous violence. - -Carlton frowned. “Give him the full strength,” he said, curtly. - -The full strength was applied, and Laurie’s body stiffened -convulsively under its force. To Elliott it seemed that the torture -lasted for hours, listening to the vicious buzz of the coil and -watching the writhing, white-clad form lashed in the long chair. He -struggled in vain to get loose; he shut his eyes, but he could hear -the creaking of the strap as Laurie’s body strained against it; and at -last he heard the missionary utter a stifled, choking sob—“Ah—ah—ah!” - -The noise of the instrument ceased. “Now will you be sensible?” -Carlton inquired. - -“Yes! yes! No more, for God’s sake!” Laurie moaned, and began to cry -with profuse tears. - -“Here, have a drink,” said Sevier. - -He held a full glass to the old man’s lips, and he drank half a pint -of whiskey and water eagerly. - -“Where is it, then? What’s the latitude and longitude?” Carlton -insisted, eagerly. But Laurie had sunk back and closed his eyes. - -“Give him time. He’s worn out with your devilish machine. Cut him -loose if you want him to talk,” advised Elliott from the floor. - -“Hello, I’d forgotten you, old man,” said Sevier. “Keep cool. It’s all -over, and we’ll turn you loose, too, in a minute.” - -He took Elliott’s advice, however, and removed the strap. Then he -stirred the missionary gently, without effect. - -“Why, the man’s asleep!” he exclaimed, bending over him in -astonishment. - -Laurie had, in fact, fallen instantly into a deep stupor. Carlton -soaked a handkerchief in ice-water and applied it to his neck, and the -old man revived. - -“Give us the address, or you’ll get another dose of the juice,” he -commanded. - -The missionary winked, and seemed to gather himself together. He stood -up shakily, his muscles still quivering. - -“It’s Ibo Island, south of the Lazarus Bank,” he said. “It’s latitude -south twelve, forty, thirty-seven; longitude thirty-one, eleven, -twenty.” - -Sevier noted the figures on a scrap of paper. Elliott was amazed at -the statement. Had Laurie really known all along? Or was it simply an -imaginary address given to save himself from further torture? - -“We’ll go there at once,” said Carlton, “and we’ll take you with us. -If the stuff’s there, well and good, and we’ll do the handsome thing -by you. If it’s not there, we’ve got proof of crooked work against you -enough to send you down for ten years’ hard labour, and we’ll hand you -over to the English police. Be sure of your figures, if you don’t want -to die in prison and have your daughter disgraced.” - -Laurie swayed back as if he had received a blow in the face. He stared -for one instant at the dark, merciless countenance of the speaker, and -suddenly caught up one of the empty beer-bottles from the table and -hurled it. Carlton would have been brained if he had not ducked -actively, and the missile smashed on the opposite wall. - -Laurie instantly seized the other bottle, and charged with a bellow of -animal fury, brandishing it as a club. The attack was so astoundingly -unexpected that Sevier stood stone-still. - -“Keep off!” cried Carlton, dodging round the table. He picked up a -long carving-knife from among the supper cutlery, and presented the -point like a bayonet. “Keep off!” he commanded again. “You fool! I’ll -kill you!” - -But Laurie lurched blindly forward, paying no heed. He seemed to -thrust himself upon the blade. The breast of his white clothes -reddened vividly. He dropped the bottle, stood trembling and rocking -for an instant, and fell with a crash upon his back. The knife stood -half-buried between his ribs. He quivered a little and lay still. - -There was an appalled silence. Every man held his breath, gazing at -the prostrate white figure. No one had been prepared for this. - -“I never meant to do it!” murmured Carlton, in an awestruck whisper. -“He ran on the blade.” - -“See if he’s dead,” said Elliott, feeling very sick. Sevier knelt -beside the body and lifted a wrist. - -“He’s done for, I’m afraid,” he said, turning a pale face back to -them. - -“Here, let me up,” Elliott demanded. “Let me see him.” - -They cut him loose, and Elliott examined the body. The missionary’s -work was done. He was dead; the knife must have touched the heart. - -“This is a bad business for us all,” muttered Sevier. “What’ll we do -with him?” - -“Whatever possessed him to break out like that? It was self-defence. -He ran right on the point,” Carlton said, still half under his breath. - -“Yes; but how’ll we prove it?” Sevier rejoined. - -Elliott said nothing. He looked at the dead man, at the crimson stain -that was spreading over the whole coat-front, and tried to avoid -thinking of Margaret. How could he tell her? Of what could he tell -her—for he would have to tell her something. - -Sevier poured out half a glass of whiskey and drank it neat. He stood -apparently pondering for a few minutes, while all three men stood -gazing with strange fascination at the corpse, which regarded the -ceiling imperturbably. - -“You look sick, Elliott. Take some whiskey,” he suddenly remarked. -“Wait, I’ll get another glass.” - -He went into the adjoining room for it, and Elliott swallowed the -liquor without seeing it, almost without tasting it. He had hardly -drunk it when he felt a violent sickness, and sat down. The room -seemed to swim and grow faint before his eyes. - -“She mustn’t know,” he heard himself murmuring. “I can’t tell her.” - -A numb paralysis was creeping over him. He dropped his head on the -table beside the battery, and gold, love, and murder faded into -blackness. - -Years of oblivion seemed to pass over his head. He awoke at intervals -to a sense of violent struggles, nightmares of blood and death, and a -pervading, terrible nausea. Then new cycles of darkness swept down, -interrupted by new dreams of agony. - -He came to himself slowly, aching and sick. He was in bed, and he was -being rocked gently to and fro. The room was small, with the ceiling -close above his head. Light came in through a small round window, and -a perpetual vibration jarred the whole place. - -As his head slowly cleared, he comprehended that he must be in the -stateroom of a steamer, and he imagined indistinctly that he was at -sea, and on his way to Hongkong in pursuit of the mate. But there was -a dull sense of catastrophe at the back of his head, and all at once -he remembered. He had been at Hongkong; he had found Margaret—and the -missionary, and the whole tragedy came back to him. What had happened -after that? He could remember nothing, and he threw himself out of the -lower berth in which he was reposing, and looked through the port -light. There was nothing but ocean to be seen. - -His hand went instinctively to his waist. Thank heaven! his money-belt -was still there, buckled next his body, and he could feel the hard, -round sovereigns through the buckskin. His clothes lay on the sofa. He -hurried into them, omitting the collar, tie, and shoes, and rushed -from the room, with his hair wildly dishevelled. - -His room was close to the foot of the stairway, and he dashed up. He -found himself on the deck of a great steamship, among dozens of -well-dressed passengers who stared at him strangely. A fresh wind was -blowing from a cloudy sky; the decks were wet; the ship rolled freely. -Far astern there was a dark haze on the horizon, but elsewhere nothing -but open water. - -“For God’s sake, where am I? What ship’s this?” demanded Elliott -distractedly from the nearest passenger. - -“What’s the matter? Been seasick?” answered the man, who was lounging -against the rail and smoking a pipe. He looked Elliott over with -evident amusement. - -But Elliott at that moment caught sight of a life buoy lashed upon the -deckhouse. It answered his question; it bore the black lettering: - - “S. S. PERU. SAN FRANCISCO.” - -He tried to collect his still scattered wits, and wondered if he had -boarded that ship while delirious. - -“I have been very sick,” he said to his interlocutor. “I was sick -before I came aboard, and I’d even forgotten where I was. What time -did we sail?” - -“At daylight this morning.” - -“For San Francisco?” - -“Of course. You must have been pretty bad. Has the ship’s doctor seen -you?” - -“I don’t know,” said Elliott, weakly; and he was all at once seized -with another fit of sickness and leaned over the rail, vomiting. When -he had recovered a little he clung limply to a stanchion. He must get -off this ship in some way; he must get back at once to Hongkong, where -Margaret was left helpless. - -“Have we dropped the pilot yet?” he asked of the passenger, who was -looking on with the amused sympathy which is the best that seasickness -can elicit. - -“Dropped him three hours ago.” - -There was not a minute to lose. Elliott hurried down-stairs again in -search of the purser’s office, and burst in unceremoniously. - -“What’s this?” he exclaimed. “How do I come on this ship? I didn’t -take passage on her. I’ve got no ticket. I must go back to Hongkong.” - -“What the devil did you come aboard for, then?” inquired the purser, -not unnaturally. - -“I don’t know how I got aboard. I woke up just now sick in my berth.” - -“You couldn’t have got a berth without a ticket. Say, you’ve been -seasick, haven’t you? Hasn’t it knocked out your memory a little? See -if you haven’t got a ticket about you somewhere. They haven’t been -taken up yet.” - -“Certainly I haven’t!” Elliott protested, but he felt through his -pockets. In the breast of his coat he came upon a large folded yellow -document which, to his utter amazement, proved really to be a ticket -from Victoria to San Francisco, in the name of Wingate Elliott. - -“I never bought this. I never saw it before!” he cried. - -“Let’s see it,” said the purser. “Second cabin. It seems all correct.” -He rang a bell. “Ask the chief steward to come here a moment,” he said -to the Chinese boy who responded. - -“Anyhow,” Elliott insisted, “I’ve got to get off this ship and back to -Hongkong, as quick as I can. Don’t you call at Yokohama?” - -“We don’t stop anywhere this side of San Francisco.” - -The chief steward came in at this moment, and looked at Elliott with a -smile of recognition. “Good morning. Feel better, sir?” he inquired. - -“This gentleman doesn’t know how he got on board,” said the purser. -“His ticket’s all right. Did you see him when he came on?” - -“Sure I did,” responded the steward, cheerfully. “I helped to get him -to his stateroom. He came aboard last night about eleven o’clock, with -a couple of his friends holding him up. You sure had been having a -swell time, sir,—no offence. They’d been giving you a little send-off -dinner at the Hongkong Club, don’t you remember? The gentlemanly dark -young fellow explained it to me, and asked me to have the doctor look -in on you when you woke up. How do you feel, sir?” - -“Can you tell me when this ticket was bought?” Elliott asked. - -The purser looked at it again. “Bought last night. It must have been -the last ticket sold for this ship. You were lucky to get passage so -late.” - -“Shanghaied, by God!” cried Elliott. “Drugged and kidnapped! I’ve got -to see the captain. Somebody’ll settle with me for this!” - -“You’d better take time to put on a collar and shoes,” the purser -advised. “A minute more won’t matter. The captain can’t help you, I’m -afraid.” - -So it appeared. The commander of the _Peru_ listened sympathetically -to what Elliott thought advisable to tell him, but offered no prospect -of assistance. - -“I don’t see what we can do for you, Mr.—er—Ellis. We don’t stop -anywhere, and you can’t expect me to put back to Hongkong.” - -“Couldn’t you transfer me to a west-bound ship if we should meet one?” - -“I’m afraid not. We carry the mails, and we’re under contract not to -slow down for anything but to save life. I take it that this isn’t a -question of saving life.” - -“No, but it’s a question of millions. Good heavens! I stand to lose -enough to buy this ship three times over.” - -“That may be, but I’m afraid I can’t act on it. Cheer up. Things will -turn out better than you think. You’ll find the _Peru_ a pleasant -place for a vacation.” - -“Is there any way for me to send a message back to Victoria?” - -“Not that I know. Or, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. If we run close -enough to anything bound for Hongkong to signal her, I’ll give you a -chance to throw a bottle overboard with a letter in it. That’s the -best I can do for you, and I can’t slow down to do that.” - -Elliott chafed with wrath as he left the cabin of the captain, who -regarded him with an interest that was obviously unmixed with much -credulity. And yet he was obliged to admit that his story was -incredible on the face of it, and not helped out by his own haggard -and incoherent manner. - -He sat down beside the rail, still feeling weak and ill, and yet too -angry to care how he felt. Carlton and Sevier had played him a clever -trick, almost a stroke of genius. They had put him comfortably out of -the way for three weeks, to be landed on the other side of the world, -while they sailed away to recover the wrecked treasure, and to escape -the investigation when the missionary’s murder should be discovered. -With a start of from three weeks to a month they could reasonably hope -to have time to plunder the _Clara McClay_ without interruption. - -Still, as Elliott grew cooler, he could not attach much importance to -the directions given by Laurie. He still felt convinced that the -missionary had known no more than himself. He had made a false -confession under the strain of the torture, and his desperation at the -prospect of going to the Mozambique Channel clearly indicated its -falsity. - -But it was of Margaret that he thought, and his heart was wrung. He -pictured her waiting all night for her father’s return and for -himself. Perhaps she was waiting still, in such an agony of alarm as -he dared not imagine, while the body of the missionary was probably -floating in the harbour at the foot of the Chinese city. She had no -money. She knew no one in Victoria. - -Elliott jumped up and paced the deck feverishly. Surely something -could be done. China was almost out of sight in the southwest, and he -would have given his left hand to have been able to reach that bluish -line that was falling away at fifteen knots an hour. And yet, what -could he do? He was at sea for almost three weeks. - -There was the hope that he might be able to send a message back to -Victoria, and he went to the saloon at once to write it, in case an -opportunity should present itself. But it was hard to decide what to -say. He did not know whether she had learned of her father’s death, -but judged it unlikely. Carlton and Sevier must have disposed of the -body so that it would not be found for some time. But above all -things, Margaret must leave Victoria at once. - - “Your father is seriously ill,” he wrote at last. “He is - with me. We got aboard this ship by a mistake which I will - explain when I see you, and we are bound for San - Francisco. You must follow us at once. Take the next - steamer. If you will call on the American consul and give - him the enclosure, he will arrange for your passage. Don’t - delay a day. - - “Wingate Elliott. - - “On board S. S. _Peru_.” - -With the letter he enclosed a note to the American consul begging him -to furnish Miss Laurie with such money as she might require, and -enclosing a promissory note for a hundred dollars. He then obtained an -empty beer-bottle from the smoking-room steward and corked up this -correspondence tightly, along with a sovereign to reward the finders. - -The opportunity came late that afternoon. The _Peru_ passed a British -three-master booming down a fair wind toward the China coast, and the -captain was as good as his word. After an exchange of signals, the -Britisher lowered a boat, and the _Peru_ even deviated a little from -her course to approach it. Elliott cut a life-buoy from the rigging, -tied his bottle fast to it and cast it overboard. - -The big liner tore past the boat like a locomotive, tossing it high on -the wash of her passage. Elliott had not before realized her speed. He -ran to the stern, and saw the boatmen fish the precious float from the -water. - -“You’ll have to pay for that life-belt, you know,” said the second -officer, at his shoulder. “You wouldn’t have got it if I’d seen you in -time.” - -Elliott had to pay for more than the life-belt. He had nothing with -him but the clothes he stood in, and he was obliged to purchase a -clean shirt, fresh collars, handkerchiefs,—a dozen small -articles,—from the stewards, paying sea prices, which differ from land -prices according to the needs of the purchaser. Elliott’s need was -great, and he felt almost grateful to his kidnappers for having left -him his money-belt. He felt certain that it was to Sevier that he owed -that. - -He was seasick most of the time during the first four days of the -voyage, for the first time in his life—the result, he supposed, of the -potent drug that Sevier had administered. After that, he rallied, and -began to be conscious of the bracing effect of the cool ocean breezes -after hot Hongkong. But never did a voyage pass so slowly. He had been -impatient in going to Bombay; he had fretted between Bombay and -Hongkong, but now he walked the deck almost incessantly, and was -always the first to look at the daily record of the ship’s run posted -at noon in the saloon. He had never sailed the Pacific before, nor -imagined that it was so wide. - - - - - CHAPTER XIV. THE CLUE FOUND - - -But twenty days cannot stretch to infinity, even at sea. The _Peru_ -entered the Golden Gate early in the forenoon on the 9th of August, -and Elliott, having no baggage to worry him, hurried at once to the -offices of the Eastern Mail Steamship Company. - -He waited anxiously while a youthful clerk flipped over the letters -and telegrams in the rack, but English honesty was vindicated. There -were two brown cable messages for him, and he ripped them open -nervously. The first was from Henninger. It had been forwarded from -Hongkong, and read: - -“Will search. Come Zanzibar immediately.” - -This was not what he wanted, but the second proved to be from -Margaret, saying: - -“Sailing twenty-eighth, steamer _Imperial_.” - -Elliott felt as if a mighty weight had been heaved off his breast. -Margaret must be then at sea, but her passage would be longer than his -own. The ships of the Imperial line called at Yokohama and Honolulu, -and on investigation he learned that the steamer _Imperial_ was not -due at San Francisco until the last day of August. He had nearly three -weeks to wait, but of course he would wait for her. The treasure was a -secondary issue just then, and then the question arose of how he was -to meet her with the word of her father’s death. - -For the actual fact he could feel but little regret. Laurie was not a -man for this world; he was too high, or too low, as one pleased to -regard it; and as a guardian for his daughter he was totally -worthless. Sooner or later open disgrace was certain, and the grief -would have been worse to Margaret than her father’s death. It was -better that he had died when he did, with his halo untarnished—to his -daughter’s eyes at least. - -Elliott spent the next days in feverish unrest. He had nothing to do, -and could not have done it if he had, and he half-longed for -Margaret’s coming and half-dreaded it. He would have to tell her the -whole story of the treasure and of the murder. How would she receive -it? And would it, or would it not be taking an unfair advantage of her -helplessness to tell her that he loved her and wished nothing so much -as to protect her for the rest of her life? - -He was rapidly becoming worn out by these plans, doubts, and problems, -and half-poisoned with the number of secrets and difficulties which he -had to keep locked up in his own breast, when a sudden recollection -came to him with relief. Bennett was in the city. - -Or, at least, he should be here. According to the arrangement he was -to go to San Francisco as soon as he could leave the hospital in St. -Louis, and surely his broken bones must have mended long ago. He was -to have wired his address to Henninger, and probably he had done so, -but Henninger was far away, and the fact would not help Elliott to -find his former travelling companion. - -He dropped a note to Bennett, however, in the city general delivery, -and also wrote to him in care of the hospital, on the chance that the -letter would be forwarded. Two days passed; it was evident that the -former letter had not reached him, and it would be necessary to wait -till an answer could arrive from St. Louis. - -Elliott waited, feeling that he had merely added another uncertainty -to his already plentiful store of them. He waited for ten days, and -then as he entered the lobby of his hotel he saw a man leaning over -the desk to speak to the clerk, and his back looked somehow familiar. - -Elliott stepped up to the man, and touched his shoulder. - -“Bennett! Is this you?” - -The man turned with a start. It was indeed the adventurer, but dressed -in a style indicating almost unrecognizable prosperity. He stared at -Elliott for a moment, and then gripped him with both hands, emitting -an explosively inarticulate ejaculation. - -“By thunder!” he cried. “I couldn’t place you. I never saw you in a -boiled shirt before. Let’s get out of this. I never was so glad to see -a man in my life.” - -He stepped out of the line and they left the hotel. As soon as they -were in the street he clutched Elliott’s arm. - -“Have you got it?” he demanded, under his breath. - -Elliott laughed a little wearily. “No, we haven’t got it. I’ve given -up thinking that we ever will, though Henninger has just wired me that -he’s going to search the whole Mozambique Channel.” - -“Isn’t Henninger with you?” - -“No, he’s in Zanzibar, and the other fellows are strung out all along -the East Africa coast. It’s a long story, and there’s not much comfort -in it, but let’s go over to the park and I’ll tell you.” - -“Start it as we walk along. Man, I’ve been hungering and thirsting for -some news from that job.” - -So on the street Elliott began the story, of the great game in -Nashville that had financed the expedition, of the voyages of the -party, and of his own adventures on the train in Bombay and Hongkong. -He finished it on a park bench, with the killing of the missionary, -and the high-class form of “shanghaing,” of which he had himself been -the victim. Of Margaret he judged it best to say nothing. - -Bennett listened feverishly, interrupting the story with impatient -questions. When Elliott had finished he sat in meditation for a couple -of minutes. - -“Henninger is right,” he pronounced at last. “The only thing now is to -search the channel. Are you sure the address your old missionary gave -was a fake?” - -“I can’t believe it was anything else. Why else would he have risked -killing rather than have it tested?” - -“It looks so. His directions must have been somewhere near the right -spot, though; I’ve been looking at maps. Anyhow, I’ll know the island -again when I see it.” - -“The wreck will mark it, won’t it?” - -“The wreck has probably broken up and sunk out of sight by this time. -That’s a point in our favour, for the worst danger is from the coast -traders and Arab riffraff. Let’s start right away for Zanzibar, by the -next steamer.” - -“I can’t leave for a week or so,” Elliott confessed, and he explained -his reasons for delay. - -“I don’t like any women in this thing. This is strictly a man’s game,” -commented Bennett. - -“Oh, Miss Laurie won’t be in it. But I wired her to come here, and -I’ve got to meet her. Why, she thinks her father is alive and here -with me.” - -“Yes, I suppose you’ve got to wait,” said Bennett, and was silent for -several seconds. “But, damn it! this is awful!” he exploded, suddenly. -“Every minute counts. Henninger’ll be waiting for us. That other gang -must be half-way there by now, and when they don’t find the wreck on -Ibo Island they’ll look somewhere else. They’ve got three weeks’ start -of us, with ten thousand miles less to go.” - -“They won’t find anything,” Elliott attempted, soothingly. - -“How do you know they won’t? They’ve got as good a chance as we, -haven’t they? Better, by thunder! Besides, there are all sorts of Arab -and Berber craft sailing up and down the channel. It seems to me -you’ve done nothing all through but waste time.” - -“If you’re not satisfied with my ways, you’d better go and join -Henninger by yourself,” said Elliott, growing irritated. “You can -count me out of it. I’m staying here for the present.” - -Bennett looked for a moment as if inclined to take Elliott at his -word, and then his face relaxed and he began to laugh. - -“Don’t be an idiot, you old jay!” he exclaimed, finally. “Of course -I’ll wait for you. You waited for me in St. Louis, didn’t you? -Only—well, I’ve been waiting now for four months, and it’s getting on -my nerves.” - -“Have you been here all that time?” - -“Oh, no. The first month I spent in the hospital, where you had the -pleasure of seeing me wrapped in splints. But as soon as I got out I -made a bee-line for the Pacific coast. I left a forwarding address at -the hospital, and I expected to have you fellows wire me. I’ve written -to every point I could think of to catch some of you.” - -“Got any money?” - -“You bet I have. I got—what do you think?—eight hundred dollars out of -the railroad for my wounds and bruises. I asked for two thousand and -got eight hundred. I had to give half of it to my lawyer, though,” he -added, regretfully. “Then, a couple of weeks ago, a fellow put me on -to a good thing at the race-track out here. It was at five to one. I -plunged a hundred on it, and she staggered home by a nose. He’s going -to give me another good tip on Saturday—get-away day, you know, and a -long shot.” - -“Don’t you touch it,” said Elliott. “We’ll need all your spare cash. -I’ve got none too much myself, and we’ve got a long way to go.” - -The prospect of all the weary miles of sea and land that he must still -travel on the treasure hunt, in fact, had come to oppress him. He had -already all but encircled the globe, and he sickened at the thought of -another month-long voyage. He was tired, mortally tired, of stewards, -and saloon tables, and smoking-rooms, and he told himself that if he -ever found himself once more in some silent, sunshiny American village -he would contentedly vegetate there like a plant for the rest of his -days. - -But before that he would have to think of how to meet Margaret, who -would be there in a week, and of some words to prepare her for the -final explanation. This week passed as swiftly as the two first had -slowly. He spent it in lounging about uneasily, and in long -conferences with Bennett, and on the afternoon of the twenty-ninth he -heard that the _Imperial_ had been sighted. She was, in fact, then -entering the harbour. - -But he was still without a speech prepared when the gangplank was -opened, and the flood of passengers began to pour down. He saw -Margaret, and waved his hand, but even from a distance he was shocked -at her pallor, and startled by the fact that she was wearing complete -black. He waited for her outside the customs enclosure. - -“You see I’ve come. I hoped you would meet me,” she said. - -“Of course I would meet you,” he protested, unsteadily, dreading the -expected inquiry for her father. On a nearer view her face was even -more drawn and haggard than he had thought; she looked as if she had -not slept for a week, but she had met him with a brave smile. - -“I know all about it,” she added. - -“All? What?” stammered Elliott. - -“Everything. They found my father’s body the day after I got your -letter. It was in an empty house. I saw him buried in Happy Valley.” - -“Margaret, I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t dare—” - -“Oh, yes, I know; it was kind of you. And oh! I was so glad to get -away from that awful city. But for your letter I think I should have -died. I thought at first that you had deserted us, and I was all -alone. That night of waiting—can I ever forget it! The consul and his -wife were very kind—but I was all alone.” Her voice was choking, and -she was trying hard to keep the sobs down. - -“Don’t cry, for heaven’s sake,—dear,” said Elliott, in deep trouble. -“The worst is over now. I’ll see that everything is right. Just depend -on me.” - -“I suppose the worst is over,” she said, drying her eyes. “But I feel -as if it were only beginning. How can I live? My whole life feels at -an end, somehow. But I will try to be strong. I was brave in Hongkong, -when I had everything to do—but now. Never mind, I will be brave -again, as my poor father was, and as he would want me to be.” - -“That’s right. Here’s your hotel. There’s a good room engaged for you, -and you’ll find they’ll make you very comfortable. Ask for everything -you want,” said Elliott. - -“You must tell me first all you know about father’s death.” - -Elliott shuddered. “Not to-day. You’re tired out; you must be. I’ll -tell you to-morrow.” - -“No. Now—at once,” she said, impatiently. “I can’t sleep till I know -it all. Then I’ll never ask you to speak of it again.” - -Elliott, thus cornered, told her somewhat baldly the story of how the -missionary had been decoyed to the house on the slope of the mountain, -and how he had met his death. He touched lightly on the torture, and -said nothing of the treasure. The latter was too long a story. - -“They stabbed him because he would not tell them something that they -believed he knew. In reality he knew nothing of it. I think it was -really by accident that he was wounded. I do not believe that they -intended to do more than frighten him.” - -“And you saw it all?” - -“I was lying tied hand and foot on the floor. They drugged me -afterward and put me on a ship for San Francisco.” - -“What was it that they wanted him to tell them?” - -“It was a business matter,” Elliott said, hastily. “Something that he -knew nothing about, but they thought he did. I don’t quite understand -the details of it myself.” - -He had feared a terrible scene, but Margaret took the story -courageously. - -“What became of the—the murderers?” she asked, after a silence. - -“I have no idea. Did you hear of any one being arrested?” - -“No. There was an inquest—but no one arrested, at least before I -left.” She was twisting her handkerchief into shreds between her -fingers. “Thank you,” she said, suddenly, trying to smile again. “It -was kind of you to tell me. You have been so good to me! Now—now, -please go!” - -Elliott fled from the hotel, immeasurably relieved that it was over. -The next day, he said to himself, he would send her back to her aunt -in Nebraska, where she would probably wish to go, and he himself would -sail with Bennett for Africa. When he returned it would be with his -share of the great treasure. He felt the need of it now; he wanted it -more than ever—not for his own sake, but for Margaret’s. - -Next morning, when he called on Margaret, she made no reference to her -father. She was very pale and evidently dispirited, and he took her -out driving. She attempted to talk on casual topics, but with -indifferent success, and she did not speak of leaving San Francisco. - -It was the same on the next day, and the next. Margaret no longer -cared either to drive or to walk. She received Elliott in her -sitting-room at the hotel when he came to see her. She was listless, -languid, paler than ever. As she was, in a manner, his guest, he could -not well suggest to her that she return to Lincoln, but he saw clearly -that she would be ill unless she were given a change of scene, and -something to divert her mind. San Francisco still was too suggestive -of Hongkong, and he noticed that she shrunk painfully from the sight -of a Chinaman. She must leave the city, he thought; but perhaps she -did not have even enough money for her ticket to Lincoln. - -After long pondering, he broached the matter on the fourth day. - -“If you’d like to go back to your aunt at Lincoln, Margaret,” he said, -“I know a fellow here in the Union Pacific office, and I can get you -transportation without its costing you a cent.” - -“Don’t you know?” she answered. “My aunt is dead. She died shortly -after you left Lincoln. She was caught out in that storm that found us -at Salt Lake—do you remember it?—and took cold, and died of pneumonia. -I have no one in the world now. That was the chief reason why I went -to Hongkong.” - -“No, you never told me that,” said Elliott, startled, and worried. He -would have liked to say what he felt that, under the circumstances, he -had no right to say; he had trouble to restrain it; he wanted to -relieve her at once from all her material troubles. - -“And this brings me to what I should have said long ago,” she went on. -“I am—it’s humiliating to confess it—but I have no money. All I had I -spent in Hongkong. I want to get work here. I’m strong; I can do -anything. Have you any idea where I could try?” - -Elliott started with horror; the confession wrenched his heart. But it -occurred to him that he could subsidize some one to take music lessons -from her. - -“Why, yes,” he said. “I’m glad you spoke of it. I know one girl here, -at least, who wants music lessons. She’ll pay well for them, too—four -or five dollars an hour.” - -“Oh!” gasped Margaret. “Do they pay such prices in California? But -they will want something extraordinary.” - -“No, you’ll do splendidly,” Elliott assured her. “Then I have to go -away myself,—on that hunt for the easy millions I spoke of in -Hongkong.” - -“And you never told me just what it was,” said Margaret. “But, before -you go, I want you to tell me just what it was that those men wanted -my father to tell them.” - -Elliott reflected. “Yes, I might as well tell you,” he said, slowly. -“It is mixed up with my own venture, too. I cut the story short the -other day, for fear of hurting you too much.” And for the third time -Elliott told the story of the wrecked gold-ship, and of his own -efforts in the chase. - -“They killed him because he would not tell where the wreck was?” she -soliloquized, when he had finished. - -“He could not tell them what he knew nothing of.” - -“But my father did know where that ship was wrecked,” she said, -looking him full in the face. - -“What? Impossible!” cried Elliott, staggered. - -“He knew where it was wrecked. That man who was in the boat with -him—the mate—told him before he died, and gave him the exact position, -with the latitude and longitude. My father told me of it. He had -planned to go there sometime and see if anything could be recovered -from the wreck. I found the map, with the place marked, among his -papers. But he thought that no one else knew of it.” - -Elliott, still half-dazed, reflected that the missionary had not -ceased to astonish him, even after death. - -“He intended to give you a share of it. Do you remember that I once -said that he might be able to do something great for you?” - -“Well, in that case,” said Elliott, trying to focus this new aspect of -events, “did he tell those fellows the right place? If he did, it’s -too late to look.” - -“Did he tell them anything?” - -“He said the wreck was on Ibo Island, latitude and longitude -something. I supposed that he said it merely to save himself—the first -place he could think of. Do you remember where the exact spot was?” - -“No. But I have the map in my trunk.” - -“Would you mind getting it? Of course,” he added, “you’ll have an -equal share in whatever we get out of it. But if you really know the -right spot there isn’t a minute to lose.” - -She sat without moving, however. “Come and see me this afternoon,” she -said, finally. “I want to think it over.” - -Elliott was astonished at this request. Surely she could not distrust -him, though unquestionably it was her secret. He reflected dubiously -that there is never any knowing what a woman will decide to do with a -delicate case. - -“You said that one of your friends—one of your partners—was in the -city,” she said, as he left. “Please bring him with you this -afternoon. I think it would be right.” - -More bewildered than ever, Elliott went away to find Bennett, who was -able to throw no light on his perplexity. But they returned together -to the hotel at three o’clock, where Margaret received them with a -manner which was more animated than in the forenoon. - -“This is the map,” she said, holding up a folded piece of paper, -spotted and stained. “I have just been looking at it again. What place -did you say my father told them?” - -“Ibo Island, latitude south twelve, forty something. I forget the -longitude,” replied Elliott. “Do you think that’s it?” - -She consulted the map again. - -“No. It isn’t Ibo Island, and it isn’t latitude twelve, forty, at all. -It’s nearly a hundred miles south of that, I should think. It must be -nearly two hundred miles from Ibo Island.” - -“I thought he wasn’t telling the truth,” said Elliott, tactlessly. - -“No,” the girl flashed back. “He died with an untruth on his lips for -my sake. He thought I might still profit by this gold. Tell me,” she -went on, after a nervous pause, “have those other men any right to -it?” - -“No more than we have.” - -“Does the treasure belong to any one? I mean, will it be defrauding -any one if we take it?” - -“Apparently not. It’s treasure-trove. But where is it?” - -She folded the map and stowed it inside her blouse. “I’ll take you to -it,” she said. - -“You?” exclaimed Elliott. “You couldn’t.” - -“You can’t find it without my help, it seems. I will give you this map -when our boat is out of sight of land—the boat in which we go to find -the wreck. You will have to take me with you.” - -Bennett looked closely at the girl, and smiled quietly. - -“But, great heavens! you don’t know what you’re asking,” cried -Elliott. “You don’t know what sort of a rough crew we’ll ship. It may -come to fighting.” - -“I’m not afraid. And you know I can shoot.” - -“It’s simply out of the question,” Elliott said, decisively. “You must -stay here or go back to Lincoln. You’ll give us the map, and we’ll -bring back your share for you. You can trust us, I hope?” - -“It isn’t that I’m afraid. But I have no friends now nor money. No one -knows anything of me; what does it matter what I do? And I can’t stay -here. I think I should die if I had to stay in San Francisco. I must -do something—I don’t care what. Oh, set it down as a girl’s foolish -freak—anything you like!” she exclaimed, passionately. “But I go with -your expedition, or it goes without the map.” - -Elliott looked helplessly at Bennett, who said nothing. Then a new -idea struck him. - -“But we’re too late anyhow. Those other fellows have a month’s start, -and they will certainly search all the islands within two or three -hundred miles.” - -“I was thinking of that,” said Bennett. “I don’t see why Miss Laurie -shouldn’t go with us if she’s determined to do it. But the time? Let’s -figure it out.” - -“I’m afraid it’s hopeless,” said Elliott. “It’s three weeks from here -to Hongkong.” - -“Well, let’s see. Suppose they sailed within a day or two after you -did. It’s about two weeks to Bombay. They’ll have trouble in getting a -steamer for the East African coast, because there isn’t any regular -service. They’re certain to be delayed there for ten days or two -weeks, and when they do sail it will be on a slow ship, because there -isn’t anything else in those waters. It’ll take them over a month to -get to Zanzibar.” - -“They may be there by this time, then,” remarked Elliott. - -“Well, suppose they are. It’ll take them nearly a month to fit out -their expedition, hire a vessel, get a crew, divers and diving-suits, -and they’ll be three or four days in sailing to Ibo Island. They’ll -spend a day or two there, and then they’ll begin to look elsewhere. If -the right place is over two hundred miles away, it’ll take them two or -three weeks to get to it. They can’t reasonably get to the _Clara -McClay_ in less than six to seven weeks from to-day.” - -“But it will take us the same six or seven weeks to get there, not -speaking of the distance from here to Hongkong,” Elliott objected. - -“Yes, if we go that way. But rail travel is quicker than land, and -we’re only five days from New York.” - -“By Jove! I see,” cried Elliott, catching the idea. - -“New York to London is seven days, if we make the right connections. -London to Durban is about seventeen days, isn’t it? It’ll take a few -more days to get to Delagoa Bay, and say another week to sail up the -channel to the wreck. Total about five weeks. It gives us a margin of -about one week. We’ll wire Henninger at once to get his outfit ready -at Delagoa Bay, and we’ll sail the moment we get there.” - -“There’s just a chance, I do believe,” exclaimed Elliott. “But why not -start our expedition from Zanzibar? It’s nearer.” - -“So it is, and that’s why Sevier will choose it. We don’t want to meet -him there or anywhere else.” - -“Suppose we meet his gang at the wreck?” - -“We must beat them off.” - -“Yes, there’s a chance—a fighting chance, after all,” said Elliott, -getting up and beginning to walk about restlessly. “That is, if Miss -Laurie will be reasonable,” looking at her imploringly. - -“I am perfectly reasonable.” - -“You’ll give us the steering directions, then?” - -“Not till we are on board, at Delagoa Bay. Come, we’ll argue the -question as we go. There’s no time to lose now. Can we get a train -to-night?” - -“The Overland leaves at seven o’clock,” said Bennett. “It’s as she -says. There’s no time to talk. We’ve got just the narrowest margin -now, and our only chance is in knowing exactly where to go when we -sail from Africa.” - -“I’ll be ready at six,” said Margaret, decisively. “We’ll talk it all -over on the train.” - - - - - CHAPTER XV. THE OTHER WAY ROUND THE WORLD - - -Before the train left Elliott cabled again to Henninger, this time -using the usual code for abbreviation’s sake: - -“Found what we wanted. Am coming with Bennett. Have expedition ready -at Delagoa Bay, not Zanzibar. Buy arms. Wire American Line, New York.” - -He also telegraphed to New York for berths on the Southampton steamer -sailing on the eighth day from that time. He reserved three berths, -though he was resolved that only two should be used. “She may as well -come on to Chicago,” he reflected, “or even to New York. The East is a -better place than the West to leave her.” But somewhere on the -cross-continent journey he intended to convince her of the folly of -her resolution. - -But somehow he did not feel equal to the endeavour at present, so he -established Margaret comfortably in a chair-car, and went to smoke -with Bennett. - -“This is a nice state of things,” he said, biting a cigar irritably in -two. “Why didn’t you back me up? I thought you were against having -women in a man’s game.” - -“So I am,” replied Bennett, who did not appear dissatisfied. “But I -never argue with a woman when she’s made up her mind. Give her time -and she’ll change it herself. Miss Laurie will give us the map all -right, and if she won’t—” - -“Then she’ll have to go with us.” - -“No. We can take it” - -“Take it? Do you mean by force?” - -“Yes, if necessary. Of course we’ll give her a square divvy.” - -“By heavens, Bennett!” said Elliott, “if you ever try to lay a hand on -that girl I’ll shoot you. Yes, I will. So there’s your plan of robbing -her, and you can put that in your pipe and smoke it. That map’s her -own, and I’m here to see that she does as she likes with it.” - -“All right; have it your own way,” said Bennett, easily. “I don’t care -a twopenny hang if she does sail with us. She seems to be a sensible -sort of girl who wouldn’t bother. It was you who kicked about it.” - -“I know it was, and you’ll see that I’ll convince her yet,” replied -Elliott, gloomily. After a long pause, “What do you think of her?” he -demanded, almost uncontrollably. - -“Oh, I don’t know,” responded Bennett, between puffs. “Regular Western -type, isn’t she? Sensible, nice girl, I guess. I didn’t see much in -her.” - -Elliott stared in amazement at such lack of penetration, threw down -his cigar, and went back to the car where Margaret was settled with a -heap of magazines, which she was not reading. Bennett meanwhile smiled -thoughtfully at the approaching foot-hills with the air of a man for -whom life has no more surprises. - -There was plenty of time now to argue the question of Margaret’s -accompanying the expedition, and Elliott argued it. The girl did -little more than listen, sometimes smiling at the floods of polemic -that were poured upon her all the way across the foot-hills, through -the gorges and tunnels and trestles of the mountains, and down the -slope to the desert. She would listen, but she would not discuss. She -would talk of any other subject but that one. It seemed to Elliott’s -watchful eye, however, that she was becoming a little more cheerful, -that she was beginning to recuperate a little from the terrible strain -of her experiences, and he said, mentally, that it was perhaps a good -thing, after all, that she should go as far as New York. - -Bennett absolutely refused to assist him, and remained for the most -part in the smoking-car while the train skated down the eastern slope -and roared out upon the great desert. At Ogden Elliott noted with -satisfaction that they were maintaining schedule time. At Denver they -were only an hour late. The country was becoming level, so that there -were no topographical obstacles to speed. - -“This is my country!” exclaimed Margaret. She was watching the -gray-green rolling plain slowly revolve upon the middle distance. A -couple of horsemen in wide hats and chaparejos were loping across it -half a mile away. “How I should like to get off, get a horse, and just -tear across those plains!” - -“Do it, for goodness’ sake,” said Elliott. “We’ll be in Kansas City -to-morrow, and you can wait there or in Lincoln till we come back with -your share of the plunder.” - -“No, I’ve something else to think of. Are we going to catch the -steamer, do you think?” - -“You are not,” Elliott retorted. - -She smiled rather wearily, trying to see the cow-punchers, who were -out of sight. - -“How on earth can I convince you of your foolishness? You seem to have -no idea of the rough sort of a trip it will be, nor the gang of -cutthroats we may ship for a crew. Why, you don’t even know what sort -of men my partners are.” - -“I suppose they’re like you and Mr. Bennett. I’m not afraid of them, -nor of anything else.” - -“But can’t you trust us—can’t you trust me?—to look after your -interests?” - -“You know it isn’t that,” cried Margaret. “It’s unkind of you to put -it that way. Oh, don’t harass me!” she appealed. “I am wretched enough -as it is. Don’t you see that I have to do something to keep myself -from thinking?” - -Against such an argument a man is always defenceless, and Elliott -abandoned the attack, baffled again. But he was not the less -determined that she should not leave America, and he reserved himself -for a final struggle at New York. - -They arrived at Omaha on Thursday night, and on the following morning -they were in Chicago. They had just thirty-five minutes for a hurried -breakfast and a brief walk up and down the vast, smoky platform before -they left for Buffalo. It was almost the last stage of the land -journey. - -“We’ll make it without a hitch,” said Bennett, cheerfully. “This is -better than the way I raced across the continent before on this job. -Do you remember that?” - -But they missed connections at Buffalo for the first time on the -transcontinental journey, and were obliged to wait for several hours -for the New York express. But Buffalo was left behind that night, and -on the next morning they arrived at Jersey City, and crossed the -ferry. New York harbour, sparkling in the mild September sunshine, -seemed to congratulate them. It was Sunday morning, and there was -plenty of time, for the _St. Paul_ did not sail till Monday noon. - -Margaret went to a quiet, but expensive hotel, which Elliott selected -for her, while he lodged himself with Bennett at the same house where -the party had made rendezvous with Sullivan four months ago. The place -looked the same as ever, and it was hard to realize that he had -circled the globe since that time, and it was not pleasant to remember -that he did not seem to be appreciably nearer the lost treasure. -However, they had a definite clue at last,—or, rather, Margaret had -one. It was now only a question of time, and of obtaining this clue -from its possessor, who must go no further eastward. - -At the offices of the American Line, Elliott found a cablegram from -Henninger awaiting him. It read: - -“Wire directions. Dangerous to wait.” - -Elliott showed this message to Margaret. “This settles it, you see,” -he said. “Henninger probably has his expedition all ready to sail, and -we’ll all have to stay here till the work is done.” - -“Are you going to stay, too?” she interrogated. - -“Well,” Elliott hesitated, having no such intention. “I guess Bennett -and I will go on, though I don’t expect we can get there in time to -join the boys before they sail. But you’ll stay here, of course. Would -you rather stay in New York, or go into the country?” - -“I’m going to South Africa,” remarked Margaret, looking out the -window. - -“You’ve gone just as far as you are going.” - -“I haven’t. You need me. Now, don’t rehearse all your arguments to me; -I’ve heard them all, and they’re all sound. But I know the one you are -thinking of, but daren’t mention—that it would be unladylike and not -respectable for me to go.” - -Elliott laughed. “I must confess that that argument hadn’t entered my -mind.” - -“Then I’m not going to give up what I want to do, just because I -happen to be a girl. I expect I’d be as useful as any one of your -party. I’m strong; and I can outride you and outshoot you, as you know -very well. Do you think I care what any one will say? Nobody in the -world takes interest in me enough to say anything. Do you want me to -remind myself again that I have no money? I’ve been living on you; I -know it. But I can endure that because I shall soon be able to pay -back every cent, but I’m not going to sit here and wait till you come -back from your adventures and give me what you think my secret is -worth. I’m going to share in it all, whatever comes—fortune or -fighting. There’s nobody in the world now who cares whether I live or -die, or—what’s more important, I suppose—whether I’m ladylike or not.” - -“How about me?” said Elliott. He hesitated, and then plunged -desperately ahead. “Margaret, you’ve said that before, and I can’t -stand your feeling like that. Look here, I may as well tell you now: -all that gold is nothing to me in comparison with your unhappiness or -danger. Let me look after you and think of you; you’ll find me better -than nobody. I’m asking you to marry me, Margaret.” - -He felt at once conscious of having blundered, but it was too late. - -“Oh, how dare you!” she flashed. She jumped up, and stood vibrating in -every nerve. “Do you think that I would marry you because you pity me? -Perhaps you thought that I was trying to work on your feelings, so -that you had to say that to me! Don’t be afraid; I’m not going to -accept you. I’m not going to South Africa merely to be in your -society. I suppose you thought that! How dared you?” - -She sank down on the sofa again and burst into passionate sobbing, -with her face buried in the cushions. - -“Margaret—” ventured Elliott, approaching her. - -“Go away!” she cried, lifting a face in which the eyes still blazed -behind the tears. “I will go with you—I will—now more than ever—but -I’ll never speak to you!” - -Elliott went away as he was ordered, sore and angry at Margaret, at -himself. He could not understand how she could so have misconceived -him. He felt almost disposed to let her go her own way and take her -own chances; and yet he felt that he must be always at her side to see -that she suffered nothing. He walked over to Broadway, inwardly -fuming, and stopped at a cable agency, where he sent another message -to Henninger: - -“Can’t wire clue. Am bringing it. Be ready at Delagoa.” - -He had considerable trepidation in calling for Margaret the next -morning, but he found her cold and calm. Her pallor had returned, and -she looked as if she had not slept. - -“Are you still determined to go?” he asked. - -“Certainly.” - -“It’s time to go, then. The ship sails at noon. There’s a cab -down-stairs for you.” - -Her valise was already packed and strapped; so was her small steamer -trunk, and she had nothing to do but put on her hat. She had been -expecting him, and in half an hour they were on board the great liner, -and had been shown their staterooms. Bennett was waiting for them at -the wharf, and the big ship swung majestically from her moorings and -moved down the bay, past the rugged sierra skyline of brick and -granite that had stimulated Elliott’s fancy when he last sailed from -this port on the apparently endless trail of gold. - -During the first half of the voyage he did not find Margaret -conversational; she appeared to endure his presence with bare -patience. She had plenty of other society on board, but neither did -she seem to care much for the men who tried to scrape acquaintance -with her with the relaxed etiquette of travel. She appeared to take a -fancy for Bennett, however, and spent hours in long talks with him -when she was not reading or gazing meditatively from her deck-chair -across the dark, unstable sea. - -Elliott perceived that he had done wrong, but he did not see how to -remedy it. He had indeed been tactless and brutal; he had, or it -looked as if he had, tried to force himself upon her while she was -virtually his guest. Still, he thought that she might have -misunderstood him less violently; and, while he admitted that he had -been served rightfully, he felt aggrieved that he had not been served -more mercifully. However, since she appeared to have no taste for his -conversation, he was prepared, for the present, to dispose of it -elsewhere. - -But she called him to her that afternoon on deck, and pointed to an -unoccupied chair beside her own. He sat down and looked at her with an -expression that he tried to make severe, but which failed in the face -of her smile. - -“Don’t you think it’s very absurd for fellow passengers not to be -friends?” she asked. - -“Very,” he replied, a little stiffly. - -“Come, you see I’m making the advances. You were rude and unkind to -me, and you haven’t apologized as you should. Are you sorry?” - -“In one way—yes.” - -She made a little face. “That’s not good enough. But I’ll let you off. -I’ll forget what you said, on condition that you make no more -objection to my going where I please. Is it a bargain?” - -“I suppose so—for my objections have no effect anyway.” - -“Not a bit. They only spoil everything. Don’t you understand,” she -went on, earnestly, “that I had to do this? If I had stayed at home, -or wherever I tried to make a home, I would have died; I would have -gone mad with loneliness and trouble. You don’t know what I have -suffered. Perhaps you think I am forgetting it, but it follows me -night and day. I daren’t think of it, or speak of it. I have to do -something—anything. Don’t you understand?” - -“Perhaps not altogether. But you shall go where you like, without let -or hindrance,” said Elliott, gravely. - -“We’re friends again, then?” - -“I think so.” - -“Ah, but you must be sure,” she insisted. - -“Well, then, I am sure,” he said, laughingly; though in his heart he -felt no such certainty. But he saw clearly that friendship would have -to do till the treasure-hunt were finished. On that expedition they -were comrades and fellow adventurers, and nothing more. - -During the remainder of the passage he therefore endeavoured to return -as far as possible to the easy spirit of the Hongkong days, though -Hongkong was a place of which neither cared to speak. Margaret -appeared to welcome this regained camaraderie, and her spirits seemed -to grow brighter than at her landing in America. They talked of many -things, but they avoided the subject of the treasure-ship; that was -dangerous to touch; it was too near their hearts. Yet in the intervals -of silence there was an image upon Elliott’s inward eye, an image that -came to be almost permanent, of another steamer, this one ploughing -through the heated blue of the Indian Ocean, and of two men leaning -over her bow, with their faces and thoughts running forward to the -same spot as his own. The same sort of vision must have presented -itself to Margaret, for she once, though only once, exclaimed: - -“Do you think we’ll be in time?” - -“I don’t know. It would have been safer if you had let us cable the -directions. For the last couple of weeks, I’ve somehow felt that the -game was up,” responded Elliott. - -“It’s not!” she cried. “I know it. We will be in time. We must.” - -“Well, we’re doing all we can,” said Elliott. “We’re due to reach -Southampton to-morrow at ten in the forenoon, and the Cape Town -steamer sails the next day at noon. We’re cutting it pretty fine.” - -The _St. Paul_ arrived punctually at her dock, and her passengers -scattered, most of them taking the steamer special train for London. -Elliott saw Margaret established in a comfortable hotel for the day -and night, and went down to the steamer offices with Bennett to see if -by chance there was any telegram. There was one, and Elliott ripped it -open: - - “For God’s sake,” it read, “wire clue immediately. Other - party at Zanzibar. Can’t wait. - - “Henninger.” - -Bennett read the message, and whistled low. The two men looked at each -other. - -“Can’t you persuade her to tell us?” Bennett asked. - -“No. She’s determined to go.” - -“Well, she’ll make us lose the whole thing.” He reflected a moment. -“We’ll have to take it from her.” - -“I told you what I would do if you tried that,” said Elliott, in an -even voice. “I’ll do it; you can count on me. I’m just as keen on -getting that stuff as you are, but by fair play. After all, Sevier and -Carlton can’t be so much ahead of us, and they don’t know where to -look.” - -“I expect I’m as quick as you are, if it came to shooting,” said -Bennett. “But a row would spoil everything, bring in the police and -all sorts of nastiness. But look there—that’s what I’ve been looking -at.” He indicated a large placard bearing the sailing dates of the -ships of the Union Castle Line for South Africa. “Didn’t you say that -our ship sailed Tuesday noon? That card says Monday noon, and that’s -to-day, and it’s eleven-forty now.” - -“By Jove, that’s so!” said Elliott, looking hard at the card. “The -agent in New York certainly said Tuesday. Here,” he called to a clerk. -“Is that sailing list right? Does the _Avon Castle_ sail to-day?” - -“Sails at noon sharp, sir,” the clerk assured him. - -Elliott exploded an ejaculation and shot out of the office. Luckily -there was a cab within a few yards; luckily again, it was a -four-wheeler. - -“Hotel Surry, quick as you know how!” shouted Bennett, and the driver -whipped up his horses. There was just eighteen minutes, and to miss -the steamer would entail a delay of three or four days, when every -hour was worth red gold. - -“Won’t you hear reason?” said Bennett. “Won’t you help me to make her -give up that map? Everything may depend on this minute.” - -“No, I won’t,” countered Elliott, flatly. - -“You’re as bad as she is. If I had Henninger here, we’d coerce you; -and by Jove, you’d better think what you’ll say to the boys when they -hear that you’ve queered the whole game.” - -“I’ll take the blame,” said Elliott; though in his heart he disliked -the situation almost as much as his companion did. - -Fortunately Margaret had not yet unpacked anything, and Elliott -brought her down the stairs with a rush, and hurried her into the cab. -It was only a few hundred yards to the dock, but as they neared it -they heard the gruff warning whistle of the liner. - -“Oh, is it too late?” gasped Margaret, who was very pale. - -The gangplank was being cleared as the party rushed down the platform; -the plank was drawn ashore almost before they had reached the deck. -There was another hoarse blast from the great whistle; a shout of “All -clear aft!” and then the space between the wharf and the ship’s side -began to widen. - -“Safe!” said Bennett. “It’s an omen.” - -But Elliott pulled the crumpled telegram from his pocket where he had -crammed it, and showed it to Margaret. - -“I don’t care,” said she, still breathing hard from the race. “We will -be there before them. I feel it.” - -“Heaven send you’re right. You’re taking a big responsibility,” -replied Elliott, gravely. - -“That reminds me that we didn’t have time to answer that cable,” -Bennett put in. “Never mind. Henninger will be wild, but we had -nothing to say.” - -It is a long way from Southampton to Cape Town, even when one is not -in a hurry. But when life and death, or money, which in modern life is -the same thing, hangs upon the ship’s speed, the length of the passage -is doubled and tripled, for the ordinary pastimes of sea life become -impossible. Shuffleboard is frivolous; books are impertinent, and -there is no interest in passing ships or monsters of the deep. The -three adventurers hung together, talking little, but mutely sharing -the strain of uncertainty. Late one night in the second week, Elliott -suddenly proposed poker to Bennett. - -“Big stakes,” he said, “payable from our profits later? It’ll kill the -cursed time.” - -But Bennett shook his head. “I’ve just sense enough left to keep away -from gambling now. If we started we wouldn’t stop till we’d won or -lost every cent we’ll ever have.” - -Elliott acquiesced moodily. The strain was wearing on his nerves, and -he went out of the smoking-room and walked along the deserted deck. It -was a brilliant blue night; the stars overhead blazed like torches, -and the dark line of the foremast plunged through the Southern Cross -as the bows rose and fell. The steamer shook with the pulsations of -the screws, and the water foamed and thundered back upon her sides, -but to Elliott she seemed barely to crawl. It occurred to him that the -treasure must be then almost directly east of him, on the other side -of Africa. - -The _Avon Castle_ ran into a gale off Cape Frio which kept most of the -passengers below decks for a day or two. Thence the weather was fresh -to the latitude of the Cape, where it became equinoctially blustering. -It was not sufficiently rough to affect the speed materially, however, -and at last the cloud swathed head of Table Mountain loomed in sight -above the long-desired harbour. It seemed as if the long trail was -almost done, for success or failure. - -Cape Town was swarming with uniforms and campaign khaki, and animated -with just renewed peace and the business of peace, but they stayed -there only six hours before they caught the boat for Durban. - -Here was a check. There was no railroad to Lorenzo Marques, unless -they took the long détour through Pretoria, over a line choked with -military service, and there was no regular steamer plying. After the -two men had spent a fevered day of searching the harbour, however, -Bennett discovered a decayed freighter which would sail the next day, -and he promptly engaged three passages at an exorbitant figure. - -Then there was a day to wait, and two days more at sea, and these -proved the most trying days of all. It was so near the goal,—a goal -which, perhaps, they would never reach! The sun blazed down hotly on -the unshaded decks as the rusty steamer wallowed along at the speed of -a horse-car, while they all three leaned over the bows, watching for -the first glimpse of the Portuguese harbour. - -They reached it just before sunset. A white British gunboat was lying -in the English River, and there was little shipping in the bay except -native craft. A flock of shore-boats swarmed about the steamer as she -dropped anchor, the customs launch having already come aboard. - -“See that! By thunder, that’s Henninger!” cried Bennett, pointing to a -good-sized and very dirty Arab dhow lying some fifteen fathoms away. -She was the nearest craft in the harbour, and there were a dozen or -more men moving about her decks. Standing in the stern with a glass to -his eye, which was turned on the steamer, was a white man who looked -familiar to Elliott as well. - -“I believe you’re right. That’ll be his ship. Yes, I caught a flash of -eye-glasses on another fellow—that’ll be Sullivan,” exclaimed Elliott, -excitedly, and Bennett sent a long hail over the water. - -“Ahoy! The dhow! Hen-ning-er! How-oop!” - -The man with the glass waved his hat, and two other men hurried up to -the dhow’s stern. - -“Come along. Let’s go aboard her now,” Bennett exclaimed, on fire with -impatience. - -Elliott looked sharply at Margaret. She was flushed with excitement, -as he could see in the quick tropic twilight, and her lips were set in -a determined line. Her baggage was hurried on deck and sent down into -a shore-boat at the end of a line, and in another minute they were -being ferried to the dhow. - - - - - CHAPTER XVI. THE END OF THE TRAIL - - -“Elliott! Thank heaven!—is that you at last?” exclaimed Henninger, -hurrying up to the rail as the boat hooked on the dhow’s side. “Why in -the name of everything didn’t you cable as I told you?” - -Henninger’s voice had the same imperious ring, though he was dressed -in a very dirty flannel shirt and a pair of duck trousers that had -long ago been white, supported by a leather belt. His sleeves were -rolled up to the elbows, and arms and face were burned to a deep -reddish brown. Hawke and Sullivan were dressed as unconventionally as -the chief in costumes to which Sullivan’s gold eye-glasses and urban -countenance lent the last touch of eccentricity. In the bow was a -cluster of half-nude Arabs. - -“I didn’t cable because I couldn’t,” Elliott replied. “I don’t know -myself where the spot is.” - -“What did you mean, then, by saying you had found it? How are you, -Bennett?—glad to see you! What—who’s this?” as his eye fell upon Miss -Margaret, who had just clambered over the rail. “We don’t want any -women aboard here.” - -“This is Miss Margaret Laurie, Henninger,” explained Elliott. “She -knows where the place is. She has a map of it, and she’s going with us -to show us.” - -Henninger bowed in acknowledgment of the introduction. - -“No, she’s not going with us,” he said, decisively. “This is no -picnic—no place for women. I’ll have to ask you to give us that map, -Miss Laurie, at once. We have to sail immediately. We’ve been waiting -here, on the raw edge, for over a week.” - -“I shall not give you the map,” Margaret returned, firmly. “I am going -to sail with you.” - -“Then I’m sorry, but I’ll have to take it,” said Henninger, and -stepped quickly forward. - -“None of that, Henninger,” exclaimed Elliott, but before he could -interfere further, the girl had whipped a black, serviceable revolver -from the dress, the same weapon which Elliott had seen her use in -Lincoln. - -“Stop,” she said, directing its muzzle at Henninger’s chest. “I’ll -show you my map when we’re out of sight of land.” - -Henninger stopped short, looked at her queerly, and finally broke into -a small, amused chuckle. - -“Put away your little gun, Miss Laurie,” he said. “I fancy I made a -mistake. I reckon you can come with us if you want to, if the other -boys don’t object. Oh, come, don’t break down, after that gun-play.” - -“I’m not—not breaking down,” said Margaret, faintly, but still firmly. -“But I think I’d like to sit down.” - -Henninger handed her an empty keg, which seemed to be the nearest -thing to a chair on board, and she collapsed. The twilight had -deepened to almost total darkness. - -“Bring a lantern aft, you!” shouted Henninger, and one of the men in -the bow made a light and brought it to the stern. His brown Arab face -shone in the circle of illumination, an aquiline, predatory profile, -and his eyes flashed upon the group of white men around the girl. - -Sullivan brought her a tin cup of tepid water into which he poured a -little whiskey, and she drank it with a wry face. She glanced around -at the circle of roughly dressed men, at the litter of miscellaneous -articles that encumbered the deck of the rough native boat, and -shuddered. A moist, unhealthy smell came off shore, there was a sound -of loud and violent altercation in Dutch from the deck of a -neighbouring barque, and a couple of pistol-shots cracked from -somewhere along the wharves. - -Elliott moved closer to her and laid his hand upon her arm. - -“I didn’t know it would be like this,” she murmured. - -“Don’t be frightened,” said Elliott. “There’s no one here to be afraid -of. But don’t you think you had better go ashore, after all? The -American consul will make you comfortable till we get back, you know.” - -“No—anything rather than that city! I’m not afraid, only tired out. -I’ve come all the way from China,” she said to Henninger, “almost -without stopping, and here I thought I’d be among friends.” - -“So you are,” the Englishman assured her. “Only just look at this -boat. We’ve got no accommodation for ladies. You’ll just have to rough -it like the rest of us. And there’s some danger; there may be a fight -before we’re through. And our own crew would cut our throats if we -didn’t keep them cowed. I still think you’d better go ashore and stay -there. But if you are willing to take your chances, you’re welcome.” - -“I’ll take the risks, of course, and I don’t want any favours because -I’m a girl. I’ll just be one of your party. When can we get started?” - -“The tide’s on the ebb now, and everything is shipped,” Hawke -remarked. - -“Yes, no use waiting,” said Henninger. “I’ll speak to the reis. -Halloo, Abdullah! Come aft a moment.” - -“Who’s the reis?” Bennett inquired. - -“He’s the captain, that is, the sailing-master under our orders,” -Sullivan explained. “You see, none of us knew anything about -navigation. He’s a fine old fellow, on the dead square, and hand and -glove with us. We’re paying him a small fortune for the run, and he’s -the only man aboard, except ourselves, who knows anything of what -we’re after.” - -The reis came aft deliberately, a finely athletic Arab past middle -age, with an aristocratic coffee-coloured face and a short grizzled -beard. He was dressed in spotless white, and wore a short sword and -dagger in his sash. Henninger conferred aside with him for a few -minutes. - -“All right,” said the Englishman, returning. “The anchor will be up -directly and we’ll be off. High time, too. Meanwhile, I’d like to hear -what you’ve been doing, Elliott. I got your letter from Hongkong.” - -Elliott thereupon briefly narrated the surprising developments of the -past month. - -“I see. You were a bold woman to try to hold us up, Miss Laurie,” said -Henninger, grimly. “Other people have tried it, but not often twice.” - -“There’s a good chance that we’ll be in time, after all,” said -Sullivan. - -“Of course we will!” Margaret cried. “What’s that?” - -It was the rattle as the crew manned the windlass. The chain cable -came in grating harshly, and the dhow glided forward and swung round -as she was hove short. A couple of Arabs hauled around the big lateen -mainsail, and then came aft to perform the same office for the smaller -mizzen-sail, while the reis himself took the helm, which was a heavy -beam projecting fully ten feet inboard over the stern. The anchor was -broken out and came up ponderously against the bows. - -“We’re off!” exclaimed Hawke, boyishly. - -The dhow began to move slowly down the river under the ebb-tide, and -gradually gathered way in the slight breeze from the land,—the dark -land of Africa that gloomed behind them. The treasure hunt was really -begun. - -Upon the dhow’s after-deck no one spoke for several minutes. Every one -of the adventurers was doubtless busy with his own reflection, and -there was an impressive touch about this silent putting forth into the -darkness—a darkness not so deep as their own ignorance of the end of -that voyage. And every one felt instinctively that much would be lost -as well as won before that cargo should be raised that had cost the -lives of so many men already. - -A sudden recollection shook the spell of silence from Elliott. - -“That other party at Zanzibar—what about them?” he asked. - -“They got there over two weeks ago, just before I left,” Henninger -answered. “There were two men. They must have been your friends Sevier -and Carlton, by your description, and they were trying to hire some -sort of craft and crew. Ships happened luckily to be scarce at -Zanzibar just then, and they hadn’t made any headway when I came here -to superintend things. Sullivan had chartered this boat already, and I -picked up Hawke at Mozambique as I came down. They can’t have much the -start of us at the most.” - -“And what then?” demanded Bennett. - -“Why, we outfitted this dhow, and no joke it was. We were lucky in -picking up a full diving outfit. It’s badly battered, but we got it -cheap, and it’ll serve. We hired a Berber Arab with it, who used to -work on the sponge boats in the Levant and understands it. Then we had -to rig a rough derrick apparatus to hoist heavy weights aboard by -man-power. We had to get a crew, and provisions and arms—no end of -things. It was like stocking a shop. We finished the job five days -ago, and we’ve been waiting ever since for a message from you.” - -“We’d have murdered you if we could have caught you. We were about -ready to go off our heads,” Hawke supplemented. - -The dhow was clearing the river mouth, and the Arab skipper hauled her -course to the northward. The breeze was fresher outside, and she -rapidly increased her speed, rolling heavily under the seas, for she -was in light ballast. - -“We’ve arranged to take turns standing watches,” said Henninger. “One -of us must always be on guard till we get back. I’ll take the first -watch, from nine o’clock till midnight, and then Hawke and then -Sullivan, three hours apiece. Elliott and Bennett will take their -turns the next night, and this arrangement gives two men a full sleep -every night.” - -“I’ll take my turn,” interposed Margaret. - -“No,” said Henninger, in a tone that closed the question. “The rest of -us sleep on blankets spread on the deck because it’s so hot, Miss -Laurie, but you can have the cabin, or we’ll swing you a hammock -amidships. But you’d suffocate in the cabin, I’m afraid. You said you -didn’t want any favours, and we can’t give you any.” - -Margaret chose the hammock, which an Arab seaman was ordered to sling -for her. But no one turned in for two more hours; there was too much -excitement in the actual, long-delayed start. But the cool sea-wind -brought quiet, and excitement gave place at last to intense weariness. - -Elliott spread his blanket beside the rail only a couple of yards from -Margaret’s hammock. - -“If anything should frighten you in the night, just speak to me and -I’ll hear you instantly,” he remarked, as he lay down. - -“All right,” she replied; but he felt more than certain that whatever -the alarm, she would sooner have bitten off the end of her tongue than -have appealed to him for help. - -Elliott awoke several times during the night. The dhow was rushing -forward at, it seemed to him, tremendous speed, and he was spattered -occasionally by smart splashes of foam from over-side. Margaret’s -hammock was swaying heavily in the roll, but she appeared to be -asleep, and all was quiet on deck. At the stern he could see the white -figure of the steersman leaning hard against the tiller, and there was -a dark form beside the rail, undoubtedly one of his friends on the -watch. - -At last he awoke again with a start, to find it broad day. The dhow’s -decks were wet; there was a cloudy sky, and a fresh wet wind blowing -from the southeast. No land was anywhere in sight; the sea, gray as -iron, was covered with racing whitecaps. Looking at his watch, he -found that it was half-past five, and he arose and walked aft, feeling -a trifle cramped and stiff, to where Sullivan was lounging out the -last hour of his duty. Margaret still slept profoundly in her hammock. - -“What do you think of our clipper? I picked her out,” said Sullivan, -walking forward to meet him. - -Elliott was now able for the first time to get a clear view of the -craft upon which he had embarked. The dhow was about ninety feet long -and rather broad in the beam, with two masts stepped with an -extravagant rake forward, each bearing a great lateen sail. There was -a long, knifelike sheer to her cutwater, and a great overhang to her -stern, and she was decked completely over, with forward and aft -companion ladders leading below. - -“She seems to be able to sail,” replied Elliott, glancing at the -racing water alongside. - -“That’s no lie. The skipper says she can do fourteen knots with the -right kind of a wind. Her name’s the _Omeyyah_, or words to that -effect. She’d make a sensation in the New York Yacht Club, wouldn’t -she?” - -“What’s your crew like? Are they really the tough gang that Henninger -said?” - -“Oh, I fancy he was piling it on to frighten that girl. She’s dead -game, isn’t she? No, the men are all coast Arabs—pretty peaceable lot, -I reckon. You see, they’re all of the same tribe as the reis, and he’s -guaranteed good behaviour from them. Besides, we’re well armed. -There’s a big revolver apiece and a dozen Mauser rifles down below, -with a thousand cartridges. Second-hand military rifles can be bought -at bargain prices in Lorenzo Marques just now.” - -Henninger came aft at that moment, looked earnestly at sea and sky, -and drew a bucket of water from over the side for his ablutions. -Elliott and Sullivan followed his example; and when Margaret appeared -a few minutes later from behind the mizzen-sail, she, too, was served -with a bucket of salt water and a towel. - -“I’m going to braid my hair as I used when I was at school,” she -exclaimed, laughing, after an unsuccessful attempt to reduce the curls -to order. Her eyes shone; her cheeks glowed after the salt water, and -her voice had a gay ring. For the first time an unwilling conviction -began to invade Elliott that perhaps after all this expedition was -better for her than to remain in America, brooding and waiting. - -“We’ll have the cabin fixed up a little for you, with a wash-stand and -a bit of a mirror,” said Henninger. “You can sleep in that hammock, if -you like, but you’ll want some corner of your own. No one else will -want to go into the cabin; it’s too hot. We live on deck.” - -“What else do we live on?” demanded Elliott “Isn’t it nearly time for -breakfast?” - -“Not for half an hour. And while we’re waiting, perhaps Miss Laurie -will—” - -Margaret understood, and she silently produced from inside her blouse -the folded paper which Elliott had seen at San Francisco. - -“This is the map my father made,” she said, opening it and handing it -to the chief. - -Every one crowded round to look. It was a carefully drawn sketch map -of a portion of the Mozambique Channel and the Zanzibar coast, and -there was a small island marked with a cross and with its latitude and -longitude—S. 13, 25, 8, and E. 33, 39, 18. - -Henninger produced a large chart of the East Coast and compared the -two. “The place must be just a little south of Mohilla Island,” he -said. “It’s two or three hundred miles from Ibo Island, where they’ll -look first.” - -“How far from here?” asked Hawke, who had come aft while they were -talking. - -“I don’t know exactly where we are now, but I should think it must be -a good eight or nine hundred miles.” - -“Good heavens!” Bennett cried in dismay. - -“But then it’s five hundred miles or so from Zanzibar, and we may have -got started before them. We can run the distance in five or six days, -or maybe in less, if this wind holds,” looking up at the gray-streaked -southern sky. - -“It’ll hold,” said Hawke. “The reis told me last night that the -southeast wind blows all the time at this season. It’s a trade-wind, I -fancy.” - -“And I think,” remarked Henninger, “that there’s a strong current -setting north through the channel that will help us two or three knots -an hour.” - -This important bit of oceanography was indeed corroborated by the -chart, and it put the whole party in excellent spirits, not even to be -spoiled by the execrable breakfast that was presently brought on deck. -Ice, milk, or butter were impossibilities on the _Omeyyah_, and the -provisioning consisted chiefly of American canned goods which did not -require cooking, and of mutton and rice which the Moslem in the galley -did his usually successful best to spoil. Only in one thing was he an -artist; the superb coffee made amends for all the rest. - -All that day the log-line was kept running, and showed an average -speed of nearly eleven knots, with an increase toward evening as the -wind freshened. The adventurers lounged about the decks, with no books -to read, with nothing to do, but feeling an exhilaration from the -rapid movement of the small craft which a steamer could never give at -double the speed. Away to port the coast of Africa showed occasionally -as a bluish darkening of the sea-line, and faded again. Two or three -dhows like their own passed them beating down the channel, and once a -long smear of smoke on the sky indicated a steamer hull down under the -eastward horizon. - -The second day passed much like the first, but the sun set cloudily, -and it rained during the night. At daybreak the wind was much fresher, -and it strengthened during the forenoon, veering more to the east. At -noon the dhow was heeling over heavily, and an hour later the skipper -ordered a reef taken in the mainsail. The good wind continued to -smarten until by the middle of the afternoon it was difficult to -maintain footing on the sloping and slippery deck. The sky was a flat, -windy gray; the sea had not a tinge of blue, and was covered with -sweeping white-crested rollers, through which the _Omeyyah_ ploughed -nobly. Occasionally she took one over the bows with a bursting smash, -sending a drenching cascade over the decks clear to the stern. It took -two men to hold the kicking tiller-head, and the adventurers clung to -the rigging upon the windward side, disregarding a ducking that could -not be avoided, for it seemed that oilskins was the one item of -equipment that had been forgotten. - -“How fast are we going?” Margaret cried to Elliott, trying to keep her -wet hair out of her eyes. The rattle and creak of the straining -rigging and blocks almost drowned her voice. - -“Thirteen knots, last time the log was taken,” Elliott shouted back. - -She made a gesture of triumph; at that rate they would surely win. -Henninger came up unsteadily, holding to the rail, with his wet linen -clothes clinging to him like a bathing-suit. - -“The reis wants to run for shelter somewhere on the coast,” he -shouted. “He’s afraid we’re running right into a monsoon or -something.” - -“Tell him to go to the deuce!” cried Elliott. “This is just what we -want, and more of the same sort.” - -“That’s what I think,” said Henninger, and he retraced his difficult -way to the stern, where the Arab skipper himself stood beside the -helmsmen. Abdullah seemed to object to the recklessness of his -employer, and apparently a violent altercation ensued, but drowned at -a distance of ten feet by wind and water. It must have ended in the -submission of the reis, for the dhow continued to drive ahead, half -under water and half above it. - -Meals were only a pretence that day. The hatches had been battened -down, and no one left the deck, but Elliott brought a quantity of -biscuits and canned salmon from the galley, which every one ate where -he stood. It rained furiously that night, and with the rain the wind -seemed to moderate, in spite of the fears of the skipper. During the -next forenoon it remained intermittently fresh, but remained powerful -enough to drive the dhow at an average speed of ten knots all day. By -sunset, Henninger calculated that they must have run nearly nine -hundred miles, and should sight Mohilla Island the next day, supposing -they were neither too far east nor west. It had been impossible to -take an observation for the last two days, so that his estimate could -not be verified. - -It rained again early the next morning, but cleared brilliantly in an -hour or two, and the decks steamed. Sullivan, who had learned to take -an observation, brought up a second-hand sextant and a chronometer of -doubtful accuracy, and these instruments indicated at noon that the -expedition was about forty miles south-southwest of the desired point. -Allowing for errors, they should sight the wreck before sunset. - -The breeze had been gradually failing all day, but it had served its -purpose, and it would certainly last till dark. The course was hauled -more to the northwest, and Henninger himself ascended into the -main-rigging with a good glass, while the rest of the party clustered -at the bows. As the dhow glided easily over the shimmering sea, every -eye was strained, not so much in search of the island as for sail or -steam that would tell them that they had been anticipated at the -wreck. About three o’clock Sullivan disappeared from the deck, and -Elliott, who had occasion to go below, found him unpacking the rifles -and putting clips of cartridges into the magazines. - -“It’s time we were getting these things ready,” he remarked, with a -grimmer expression than Elliott had ever seen his imperturbable -countenance assume. - -“Do you think we’ll be in time?” Margaret asked him very anxiously, -when he returned to the deck. - -“I’m sure I don’t know any more than you do,” replied Elliott. - -“If we’re too late, or if the wreck isn’t there—I’ll never forgive -myself!” she breathed, desperately. - -“You begin to appreciate what you’ve done?” said Elliott, trying to -look at her sternly, but his glance softened; he wanted to comfort -her, to tell her that it didn’t matter after all whether they found -the treasure or not, since there was something better in life than -gold. For a moment it seemed to him that she almost expected it, but -before the moment was passed Henninger hailed the deck. - -“I think I’ve sighted it. There’s something, anyway.” - -Hawke burst out into a joyous whoop of excitement. “What direction?” -called Bennett. “Any other ship in sight?” - -“A little more to port.” - -The course was hauled a little more. “No sign of any other vessel -anywhere,” Henninger added, after carefully sweeping the horizon with -his binoculars. - -“Hurrah!” cried Margaret. “I knew we would win!” - -“We haven’t won yet. They may have come and gone,” Hawke interposed; -and at this reminder every one became nervously silent, gazing ahead. -After twenty minutes a whiter spot began to appear upon the blue -sea-line. - -As the island was gradually lifted, it appeared, as Bennett had -described it, to be a good-sized and absolutely barren patch of sand -and shingle. It seemed about half a mile long, and a couple of hundred -yards wide at the widest point, with a single eminence rising to a -height of perhaps a hundred feet near the eastward end. All around it -to windward a line of foam and spray marked the dangerous reefs, and a -cloud of sea-birds wheeled flashing in the sun overhead. But the gaze -of the adventurers was not fixed upon the island, but upon a great -heterogeneous mass that stood up among the breakers, white with the -droppings of the birds, but still showing the red of rusty iron, a -battered skeleton, having no longer any resemblance to a ship, but -nevertheless all that was left of the unlucky _Clara McClay_. - - - - - CHAPTER XVII. THE TREASURE - - -The gold-seekers gazed eagerly, and, as regards Elliott at least, with -strange emotions of excitement, at the ruins of the vessel they had -come so far to see, whose name had been familiar so long, but which -none but Bennett had ever seen. But it was not all of the -treasure-ship that lay staked upon the reef. She had evidently broken -in two, and the forward and larger portion had been swept into the -lagoon-like space beyond the rocks, where it could just be made out as -a shapeless bulge of iron scarce showing above the surface. In reply -to a question from Henninger, Bennett stated that the gold-chests had -been in the forehold, and must be, consequently, submerged. Even if -they had been in the after portion they must surely have been shaken -out of the wretched tangle of plates and rods that formed the relics -of that half of the vessel. - -The dhow was brought up cautiously, with the lead constantly going, -and in eight fathoms the reis gave the order to anchor by Henninger’s -direction. - -“We’ll find a better anchorage on the lee side of the island,” -remarked the chief, “but it’ll be dark in an hour and we’d better lie -here for the present” - -“Why, aren’t you going to look over the wreck right away?” demanded -Hawke, in surprise. - -“What’s the use? We can’t do anything to-night.” - -“Then I’ll row over there alone. Hanged if I can stay here all night -with maybe a fortune within a couple of hundred yards and not go to -see if it’s there,” said Hawke. - -This speech found an answer in the hearts of all, and Henninger, -outvoted, ordered the dhow’s small boat over the side. Margaret’s -desire to visit the wreck was overruled, and Sullivan preferred also -to remain behind, but the rest of the adventurers rowed themselves -toward the reef. - -The tide was rising and they were able to bring the boat alongside the -wreck, by careful steering. The fragment of the steamer was lying -almost upon her beam-ends, so that it was possible to grasp her rail -by standing up in the boat. The deck was too sharply inclined to stand -on it, however, and was besides deeply covered with the droppings of -sea-birds. The deck-houses were quite gone, great cracks yawned in the -deck-plates, the hatches and companionways were vast gaping holes, -while on the other side the deck seemed to have broken entirely clear -from the side plates. - -“No use in going aboard,” said Bennett, but Hawke scrambled on hands -and knees to the companionway hole, and the rest followed him through -the filth. The stairs were gone, but they slid easily to the deck -below, where, in the low light that entered freely through a score of -yawning gaps in her side, they viewed a scene of ruin even more -depressing than that upon the deck. Not a trace of man’s occupancy was -left. Everything wooden or movable had been swept out by the wind and -sea that had raged through and over the wreck, and they could hear the -water washing hollowly in the hold below. - -There was nothing to tell whether the ship had been visited before -them, and there seemed little possibility of settling this great -question that night “We might as well go back,” said Elliott, after -they had stared at the desolation for a few minutes. - -“No, I’m going to have a look into the hold before I sleep,” Hawke -insisted, and he began to clamber down the cavernous gulf that led to -the interior of the ship. - -Henninger, Elliott, and Bennett meanwhile went back to the deck and -perched precariously upon the broken rail while they waited for their -comrade’s return. Hawke was gone for a long time, however, and at last -a sudden outburst of wild shrieks arose from the bowels of the ship. - -“He must have got caught somewhere and can’t get back,” exclaimed -Elliott, and they returned below hurriedly. They had scarcely reached -the lower deck, however, when Hawke reappeared, dripping wet, with his -face distorted with some emotion. - -“It’s there! It’s there—tons of it!” he cried, and his voice broke on -the words. “Come along! I’ll show you!” - -They tumbled after him at the risk of breaking their necks, for the -iron plates hung in torn flaps, and the ladders were broken or gone. -But at last they peered down the hatch. The light was faint, coming -principally through the great fissures, but they could dimly make out -a heap of miscellaneous freight, cases and hogsheads and crated -machinery that had tumbled against the ship’s side when she heeled, -and now lay in several feet of water. Some of it had actually fallen -through the holes in the bottom that had enlarged with pounding on the -rocks, but the upper articles of the mass showed above water. Hawke -sprang recklessly down upon the pile, and splashed in to his knees. - -“Be careful. You’ll break a leg if you slip on those crates,” -Henninger warned him. - -But Hawke paid no attention. “This is it!” he shouted, his voice -resounding hollowly in the hold. He struck his hand upon a wooden box -about three feet in diameter. “It’s stencilled with that corned beef -mark, and it’s heavy as lead. You can’t stir it. See!” He strained at -the case, which refused to move. - -“Bennett, please row back to the dhow and bring an axe and a lantern,” -Henninger ordered, coolly. “We’ll see what’s in that box. And don’t -say anything to them aboard. We don’t want to raise their -expectations.” - -Bennett must have rowed at racing speed, though the fifteen minutes of -his absence seemed an hour to those who awaited him. All four men then -descended upon the pile of unsteady freight, where the lantern light -showed that the case in question was indeed marked with a stencil that -Bennett remembered. But this time the box might really contain corned -beef. - -The steel would show, and Hawke attacked the case with the axe. It was -strongly made and bound with iron, while its water-soaked condition -made it the more difficult to cut, but he presently succeeded in -wrenching off a couple of boards. The interior was stuffed with hay. - -Hawke thrust his arm into the wet packing, and burrowed furiously -about. Presently he withdrew it—and hesitated before he exposed his -discovery to the light of the lantern. He held an oblong block of -yellow metal. - -“God!” said Bennett. - -They all stared as if hypnotized by the small shining brick that shone -dully in the unsteady light. Then Bennett flung himself upon the case -and began to rip out the hay in armfuls, swearing savagely when it -resisted. - -“Here, stop that! Stop it, I say!” cried Henninger. “We don’t want -that case gutted—not now.” - -He put a powerful hand on Bennett’s shoulder, and dragged him back. -Bennett wheeled with a furious glare, that slowly cooled as it met -Henninger’s steady gaze. Elliott was reminded of the end of the -roulette game at Nashville. - -“We must leave it packed,” the chief continued. “We don’t want to go -back to the dhow with a lot of loose gold bricks for all the crew to -see. We’ll have to trans-ship the cases whole. Is this the only corned -beef box?” - -They found another heavy case bearing the same stencil and half-buried -among the freight under a foot of water. There were no more in sight, -though others might have been invisible among the débris. Apparently -only a small portion of the treasure had been shipped in the -after-hold, but the discovery of any of it proved conclusively that no -man had visited the wreck before them. As they rowed back to the dhow -they were strangely silent, and Elliott, feeling slightly dazed and -drunken, understood their taciturnity. - -“Congratulations, Miss Laurie,” said Henninger, as he climbed over the -rail. “You’ll be an heiress to-morrow.” - -“Was it there?” faltered Margaret; and Henninger handed her the golden -brick, after a cautious glance around the deck. She came near dropping -it when she took it in her hands. - -“How heavy it is!” she exclaimed. “How much is it worth?” - -“Two or three thousand dollars,” replied Henninger. - -Margaret gave a little gasp. “Here, take it.” She thrust it back to -Henninger. “I’m almost afraid of it. I never had so much money in my -life at once. I can’t imagine that it’s really true. I hoped, -but—please don’t look. I believe I’m going to cry!” - -She turned aside and did cry quietly for a couple of minutes, with her -head on the rail, while the men preserved an embarrassed silence. - -“I’m better now,” she said, wiping her eyes. “I’m ashamed to be so -silly, but it was the excitement, and the waiting, and the success, -and—everything. What are we going to do now?” - -“We can’t do anything more to-night,” returned Henninger. “We must -have light to locate the rest of the stuff, for it’s mostly in the -lagoon, you know. At least, we suppose so, for we only found two cases -on the wreck. Bennett says he counted twenty-three cases in the -forehold, and that will all have to be got by diving. We might get out -our diving apparatus to-night and rig the derrick.” - -There was not much sleep on the _Omeyyah_ that night. The diving -armour was brought up from the hold, cleaned and oiled, and the -air-tubes tested. They mounted the air-pump between decks with its big -driving-wheels, adjusted the manometer, coiled the life-line, and made -everything ready for the descent. The impromptu derrick was also set -up, consisting of a strong spar forty feet long hinged in an iron -socket at the foot of the mizzen-mast, with a block and tackle at the -extremity and a geared crank at the base. As it was not likely that -the cases of hay and gold would weigh over two or three hundred -pounds, this rude apparatus would be sufficient to hoist them aboard. -Henninger meanwhile cleared out the room that had been prepared below -for the reception of the treasure. This was a corner of the -after-cabin, partitioned off by three-inch planks, totally dark, and -entered only by a low and narrow door fastened with four heavy iron -bars, each locked into its socket with a Yale lock. The after part of -the dhow had been bulkheaded off from the forward portion with heavy -planks, so that no man could gain access to the cabin except by the -cabin ladder on the quarter-deck. - -These preparations were finished by two o’clock in the morning, -however, and there was nothing then to do but wait for daylight. A -cool air breathed on the sea, though scarce a breeze stirred; the -stars were white fire in the velvet sky, with the hill on the island -rising dark against them. The adventurers lounged about the deck, -talking in low tones, with their eyes ever fixed upon the indistinct -shape of the wreck that lay amid the wash on the surf. But weariness -brought sleep after all, and silence gradually fell upon the deck. - -Elliott was awakened from violent dreams by some one shaking him. He -opened his eyes to find daylight on the sea, though the sun had not -yet risen. - -“Get up,” said Hawke. “We’ve got to make a long day of it.” - -Elliott sprang up, broad awake instantly. The rest of the party were -already astir, and in a few minutes the cook brought them coffee, -canned salmon, corned beef, and biscuits. - -“The first thing is to try to locate the cases that are sunk,” said -Henninger, as they breakfasted hastily. “While we’re at it, we must -see if we can’t find a way to get the dhow into the lagoon. If we -can’t do that, we can’t fish up the chests bodily. We’d have to break -them and bring up the bricks one by one, and I’d rather take almost -any chances than that.” - -“But there must be plenty of water inside the reef,” Hawke remarked. -“The wreck’s sunk almost out of sight, and the dhow only draws four or -five feet, doesn’t she?” - -“That’s so,” said Henninger, gulping down his coffee. “We’ll try it. -And, above all things, don’t any of you say the word ‘gold’ above your -breaths. That’s a word that’s understood in all languages.” - -The meal did not last five minutes, and Henninger, Bennett, and -Elliott descended into the boat and pulled toward the line of reefs in -search of a gap into the lagoon. They rowed nearly half a mile, and -rounded the island to the west, in fact, before they found any opening -in the barrier. Here, however, they came upon a gap quite wide enough -to permit the passage of the dhow, and in the lagoon there was, as -Hawke had estimated, a depth of from one to three and in one spot of -five fathoms. - -They rowed eastward again toward the wreck. The sunken part of the -_Clara McClay_ lay in about twenty feet of water, and had been swept -round till it rested almost at right angles to the other half. It had, -like the stern, toppled abeam, so that the decks lay almost -perpendicular, and about three feet of the side rose above the water. -The funnel was broken off, as well as the masts, and on looking down -through the clear water it appeared that the engines had burst loose -and smashed through the side of the steamer. A medley of wheels, rods, -and cranks were visible, and the bottom was scattered thick with coal. -Otherwise, probably owing to the protection afforded by the water, -this portion of the steamer did not appear to have suffered so -severely as the after half. - -They rowed all around the sunken mass of iron that revealed nothing of -what it might contain. - -“There’s the hatch where I went down,” said Bennett. The hatch was -still closed, and was some eight feet under water. - -“Diving will be the only way to go down there again,” Elliott -remarked. - -“Yes,” said Henninger. “No use looking at it from here. Let’s get the -dhow up alongside.” - -They regained the dhow as the sun rose, and the reis got the _Omeyyah_ -under sail. There was just wind enough to move her, and the boat led -the way and conned her in, through the gap in the reef and across the -lagoon till alongside the rusty bones of the wreck. Here the anchor -dropped with a short cable to keep her from drifting, and as a further -precaution the boat carried a second cable with a kedge anchor, and -fixed it among the rocks of the reef. - -“Now,” said Henninger, when they had returned aboard, “where’s the -diving-suit? I’m going down.” - -“I thought you said you had an Arab expert for the diving,” said -Elliott, in surprise. - -“So we have, but I’m afraid to send him down till I’ve had a look -first. The gold cases may have burst, and you don’t know what sights -he’d see. I don’t trust this crew, so I’m going below myself this -time.” - -“By thunder, I wouldn’t crawl into that wreck in a rubber jacket, not -for a ship-load of gold,” said Bennett, earnestly. “We don’t know -whether the diving-machine works right. Better try it on the dog.” - -Henninger appeared struck by this consideration, but after a little -hesitation he persisted in his purpose. Hawke brought the suit on -deck, the rubber and canvas jacket, the weighted shoes and the copper -helmet, and Henninger accoutred himself under the directions of the -Berber expert. Before the helmet was screwed on, the air-pumps were -tested again, and appeared to be efficient. A couple of Arabs were -stationed in the waist to turn the big wheels that drove the pumps, -and Henninger’s head disappeared inside the helmet with its great -goggle eyes. - -He puffed out remarkably as the air was pumped into the suit, and -Elliott and Hawke assisted him to stagger along the deck, and over the -dhow’s rail. Thence he stepped down upon the uncovered part of the -steamer, and slid down the sloping deck till he was entirely -submerged. A string of bubbles began to arise. - -Every one on board, except the men at the pumps, lined the rail and -watched him eagerly. He checked himself at the hatch, looked up and -waved his hand. Then he attacked the hatch with a small axe, and after -a few minutes’ chopping and levering it gave way, and he wrenched the -cover off. It sunk slowly, being water-logged. There was a square, -black hole, and after peering into it for a few seconds Henninger -slipped inside and vanished. - -The life-line and the air-tube slowly paid out, and the bubbles -sparkled up intermittently from the hatch. Henninger remained in the -hold for about ten minutes, when his grotesque form emerged like a -strange sea-monster, and he crawled up the slanted deck again, and -came above the water. Sitting on the broken rail of the steamer, he -shouted to them, but his voice came inarticulately through the helmet, -and, seeing his failure, he gesticulated at the derrick. - -“He wants us to lower the grapples,” exclaimed Elliott. He ran to the -crank and touched it, looking at Henninger, and the helmet nodded -affirmatively. - -With the assistance of a couple of the crew, the beam was swung round -over the wreck, and the grappling-hooks lowered. Henninger caught them -as soon as they were within reach, and he descended once more into the -hold, carrying the irons with him. He was out of sight for a longer -period this time, but he reappeared at last, and clambered with -difficulty aboard the dhow. - -“Hoist away,” he said, as soon as the helmet was unscrewed. “I’ve got -one hooked.” His face was much flushed, and he rubbed his eyes -dizzily. - -“What did you find?” queried Hawke, with excitement. - -“All the freight is piled in a heap, higgledy-piggledy, and it’s -pretty dark down there. I made out the cases we want, though, or at -least some of them. I had forgotten that it’s so easy to lift weights -under water. I heaved those crates and hogsheads around like a dime -museum strong man. The irons are hooked on one of them. Let’s get it -up.” - -At the word the Arabs at the crank began to revolve the handles. The -long spar rose, and an iron-bound, wooden packing-case, about three -feet in diameter, appeared at the hatch, and swung dripping out of the -water. The dhow heeled slightly at its weight. - -“Inboard,” commanded Henninger, and the reis translated the order. The -beam was swung around till the case hung directly over the after -hatchway of the dhow, and, being lowered, it descended accurately out -of sight. - -Every one rushed down the ladder to look at it as it lay in the centre -of a widening pool on the planking, with the grapples still fast. But -there was nothing to see; the markings on the box had been almost -obliterated by water, though the false stencil could still be made -out. On the other side letters had been painted with a black brush, -presumably the forwarding directions, but nothing could be made of -them. Hawke went out and returned with an axe, but Henninger checked -him. - -“Why, aren’t you going to open it?” said Hawke, staring. - -“Better not. We know well enough what’s in it. We’ve got to hurry, -work day and night, and get away from here as quick as ever we can.” - -“Oh, confound it! We’ll have to open one of them, anyway. We may have -made a mistake. Aren’t we going to see any of the plunder?” exclaimed -Elliott and Hawke, and Margaret added her entreaty. - -“All right, go ahead,” Henninger gave in. “Open it carefully, though, -for we’ll want to close the box again. Sullivan, please keep an eye on -the hatch to see that nobody looks down.” - -Hawke released the grapples, and they dragged the case into the cabin, -where, with some difficulty, one of the boards of the cover was pried -off. A mass of wet, foul-smelling hay appeared below, and Hawke began -to drag this out upon the floor, where it made a great pool of -sea-water. - -The hay was packed very tightly, but in a few seconds Hawke -encountered something solid, and brought it to light. It was a dead -yellow brick of gold, exactly similar to the one already acquired. - -Hawke continued the disembowelling of the case until the floor was -swimming with water and heaped with sodden hay, and the pile of yellow -blocks grew upon the floor. At last the box was empty. - -“Twenty-five,” remarked Henninger, who had been counting them as they -came out. “We might as well weigh them. There are small scales in the -storeroom,”—which Elliott at once fetched. - -The scales, which were not strictly accurate, indicated the weight of -the first brick at a trifle under eight pounds, and the others all -gave the same result. Evidently they had been run in the same mould. - -“The latest quotation for pure gold, as I suppose this is, was -twenty-five dollars an ounce, or thereabouts. At that rate, how much -is each of these bricks worth? Remember, these scales weigh sixteen -ounces to the pound.” - -“Three thousand, two hundred dollars,” replied Hawke, after making the -calculation. “The whole case will total up—let me see—eighty thousand -dollars!” - -“I counted twenty-three cases in the forehold, and there are two at -least in the after-hold,” said Bennett. - -“Two millions,” said Hawke. - -“Two millions!” whispered Margaret, and at her awed tone Hawke burst -into a high-pitched roar of laughter. Bennett caught the contagion, -and then Elliott, and they laughed and laughed, a shrill nervous peal, -till they could not leave off. - -“Stop it!” shouted Henninger. - -“We’ll never have a chance to laugh like this again,” Hawke managed to -ejaculate, and there was a renewed outburst. - -“Brace up. You’re all hysterical!” said Henninger, sharply, and they -gradually regained self-control. “Come,” he continued, “we’ve got to -get the rest of that stuff aboard. Hawke, you and Miss Laurie will -repack that box again just as it was before. Make a memorandum of the -number of bricks in it, and, Miss Laurie, you will keep a tally of the -boxes as they come down.” - -This time, Elliott volunteered to go below, and he donned the -diving-dress, and lumbered over the side. It was easy enough to slide -down the steep slope of the steamer’s deck; in fact, he scarcely knew -when he became submerged, but it required a summoning of all his -courage to jump into the black gulf of the hold. - -He floated down through the water as lightly as a falling leaf, -however, and landed without a jar upon a miscellaneous mass of tumbled -freight. There was a faint green-gold light in the place, and at first -it was hard to distinguish anything, but as his eyes grew more -accustomed to the strange gloom he made out the articles of cargo -distinctly. There were boxes and cases of every size and shape, with -barrels and bales and shapeless things in crates—very much the same -heterogeneous mixture, in fact, as he had seen in the after-hold. - -The air began to buzz in his ears, and according to directions he -knocked his head against the valve in the back of the helmet and -released the pressure. The coolness penetrated through his armour; -and, but for the rubbery taste of the air he breathed, he found the -situation decidedly pleasant, for the depth was too slight to cause -any feeling of oppression. - -He examined the cases, bending his helmet close over them, for it was -not easy to make out their almost erased markings. He found that he -had been standing on one of the gold chests, and he hitched the -tackles to it, astonished to find that he could move its heavy weight -with considerable ease. He signalled through the life-line, and the -case was hoisted up, and disappeared out of his sight. - -By the time the grappling-hooks returned empty upon him he had found -another of the treasure-cases, which he at once sent aloft. He secured -four cases in this way, and sent them up in about twenty minutes; and -then, beginning to feel a slight nausea from the hot, rubber-flavoured -air, he climbed out and made his way aboard the dhow. - -Henninger took his place, and sent up two more cases, making seven -that were stored in the dhow’s cabin. The first one had already been -repacked, and Hawke and Bennett were busy stacking the chests in the -strong-room, lashing each one strongly to ring-bolts to prevent -shifting when the dhow rolled. They opened two more just enough to see -that there was certainly gold in each, and closed them again. The -heavy weight of the cases was evidence of the amount. - -All day long the work went on, under the full blaze of an equatorial -sun. The dhow’s decks ran with water from the dripping chests, and -down below the cabin was flooded, for the boxes were like sponges. -With the exception of Margaret, the adventurers were drenched to the -skin, and the work grew increasingly difficult when it became -necessary to shift the cargo about in the steamer to find the gold -cases. When at last it seemed that all had been taken out, the tally -showed only fifteen in the strong-room, while Bennett had counted -twenty-three in the hold. The missing ones would have to be -discovered, and Henninger went down again to search for them. - -“I wonder what the crew are thinking of all this,” Margaret remarked -to Elliott. He had paused at the entrance to the strong-room where she -was keeping tally in a note-book as the precious cases came aboard. - -“I don’t know what they think. I know what the reis told them,” -returned Elliott. “He told them that we’re wrecking the steamer and -taking out a lot of cases of cartridges for the sake of the brass and -lead. He knows all about it, of course, but the crew would never dream -of so much gold being in her.” - -Margaret shivered a little. “Things have gone almost too smoothly -since we sailed. I felt certain that we would get here in time, and I -was right. But now I feel, I hardly know how, as if something was -going wrong. I wish we could leave the rest of the gold and go away. -We have more than we need now.” - -“Oh, no,” Elliott expostulated. “And there are two more cases in the -after-hold, which won’t be easy to get out.” - -“I have been nearly happy,” she broke out, after a silence, “happier -than I ever expected to be again in my life. I feel almost ashamed of -it, after all that I suffered such a little while ago. I see now that -it was a dreadful thing for me to come on this expedition; I am -surprised that you let me do it. But everybody has been so nice to me. -If I had been the sister of all these men they couldn’t have treated -me with more respect and real kindness. Aren’t you almost glad I came, -after all?” - -“Yes,” said Elliott. He hesitated. “Do you know why I wanted all this -money?” he went on, bending toward her. “It wasn’t for myself.” - -“What, then?” said Margaret, faintly. “No, don’t tell me,” she -exclaimed, “not yet. Let’s be comrades the same as ever, and we -haven’t got the gold yet, anyway.” - -“Then I’ll tell you when we do get it,” Elliott answered; and at that -moment another case came down the hatch, and Bennett followed it, -breaking off the conversation. But the girl’s “not yet” left a glow of -excitement and exultation in Elliott’s heart for the rest of the day. - -Two more of the missing chests were located at last and sent up. A -fourth had been burst; it might have been the very one which Bennett -had opened while imprisoned in the hold, and the contents were -scattered. After some consultation, Elliott went down again and sent -the bricks up in a canvas sack, three at a time, packed in hay to -disguise the weight. By the time this was accomplished, it was near -sunset, and already growing too dark to see in the hold. Henninger -fumed impatiently, but without electric lights it was impossible to -work under water after sunset. Besides, the boxes in the after-hold -could not by any possibility be reached that night. - -Elliott struggled that night between sleepy exhaustion and excited -wakefulness, and the rest of the party were in a similar state. All -night long he could hear frequent movements; a dozen times he started -up anxiously at some sound, only to find that it was the armed guard -over the hatchway, but toward morning he slept heavily for a couple of -hours. - -Work was resumed as soon as a diver could see in the steamer’s hold. -After looking through all the mass of freight, and turning over much -of it with a lever, the missing cases were at last discovered, and one -by one hoisted aboard. - -“Now for the other half of the ship,” said Henninger, turning his eyes -toward the wreck on the reef. “I rather fancy we’ll have to dynamite a -hole in her side—good God!” - -They followed his pointing finger and stood stupefied. Off the -eastward end of the island a small steamer was lying, a faint haze of -smoke drifting from her funnel, and the red British ensign flying at -her peak. - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII. THE BATTLE ON THE LAGOON - - -“How did that ship get so close without our seeing her?” cried -Henninger, fiercely. “Who was on the lookout?” - -It appeared that every one aboard the dhow had been too deeply -interested in the salvage operations, and that nobody had been on the -lookout at all. The chief snatched up a glass and stared long at the -strange vessel, which lay absolutely motionless and perhaps a mile -away. - -“We’d better clear out. She’s a Britisher—as like as not a gunboat,” -Hawke muttered, nervously. - -“Clear out!” snorted Henninger. “She’d overtake us in an hour, with -her engines. She’s got no guns, that I can see. Ten to one it’s our -friends from Zanzibar.” He continued to gaze through the binoculars. - -“By Jove, she’s getting ready to lower a boat!” he exclaimed, after a -minute or two. “Sullivan, please bring up those rifles and open a case -of ammunition. Bring up a case of revolver cartridges, too. Elliott, -tell the skipper to get those anchors up, and bring her around.” - -The strange steamer was indeed lowering a boat which was full of men, -and as it left her side half a dozen dull flashes, as of blued steel, -glimmered in the sun. Sullivan darted below and came up with his arms -full of Mausers, which he stacked against the after-rail. The Arabs -were set to work at the capstan, and the forward anchor was broken -out, but the kedge attached to the reef was allowed to remain for the -present. Without it, the dhow would have drifted upon the island, for -the bright morning was turning cloudy, with a rising breeze from the -southeast. - -There was hurry and excitement upon her decks as she lay head to the -freshening weather, straining at her single cable. The Arabs were -clustered at the bow, talking violently among themselves, and -gesticulating at the mysterious steamer. Henninger watched them with -an air of suspicion, and proceeded to load his revolver, and put a -handful of cartridges in his pocket. Every one followed his example, -and Margaret produced her own pistol, which she had not shown since -the night of her coming aboard. - -“Oh, is there going to be a fight?” she breathed in a tremulous voice, -which her bright eyes attributed to excitement rather than to fright. - -“No. At least, I hope not,” said Henninger. “If there should be, -you’ll go below and stay there, Miss Laurie. You understand?” - -“Look,” she cried, in answer. “They’re waving a white flag.” - -The boat, which had almost reached the barrier reef, had stopped, and -a strip of white cloth was being flourished from her stern. - -“That settles it,” Elliott remarked. “It must be Carlton and Sevier’s -gang. They want to talk to us.” - -“We’ll talk to them, but they mustn’t come alongside us,” responded -Henninger. “We’ll go ashore to meet them. Elliott, will you come with -me? The rest of you had better stand by with the rifles while the -peace conference is going on.” - -Elliott and Henninger accordingly descended into the dhow’s -shore-boat, which swung by its painter, carrying no weapons but their -revolvers. Elliott took the oars, and while he rowed Henninger stood -up and flourished his handkerchief. The other boat resumed its course -at this signal, but was obliged to sheer westward for a quarter of a -mile to find an entrance through the ring of reefs. Elliott and -Henninger had been ashore for ten minutes when the steamer’s party -landed at a point a hundred yards eastward upon the beach. - -The strangers disembarked, nine of them, and seemed to consult -together for a few moments. Two were in Arab dress, but the rest -appeared to be white men of the lowest order, the white riffraff that -gathers in the East African ports, a genuinely piratical crew, and -every man carried his rifle. Finally, two men came forward with the -flag of truce. - -“That’s Sevier all right,” said Elliott, “and Carlton with him.” - -So it proved, and the Alabaman saluted them with a suave flourish, and -without any symptom of surprise. - -“Good mo’nin’, Elliott,” he said. “Ah, I always knew you knew where -this place was. We never ought to have let you go, but we were all -rattled that night, as you’ll remember. I hope you enjoyed your trip -to San Francisco?” - -“Very much, thanks,” said Elliott. “Have you been to Ibo Island?” - -“Yes, we’ve been at Ibo Island. Your slippery old sky-pilot played us -a neat trick on that deal. Only for that, we’d have been here two -weeks ago. Have you all fished up the stuff?” - -“Yes, we’ve got it all aboard,” said Elliott, forgetting the two cases -in the stern on the wreck. - -“But we’ve no time for chat,” Henninger broke in. “My name’s -Henninger, and I’m in a way the leader of this party. What do you want -with us, gentlemen?” - -“I think I met you once at Panama, Henninger,” said Carlton, as -gruffly as ever. - -“Very likely,” returned Henninger. “There are all sorts at Panama. -What do you want now?” - -“We want am even divvy of the stuff.” - -“We could take it all, you know,” put in Sevier, sweetly. - -“I think not. We won’t divide it,” Henninger answered, without -hesitation. - -“What’ll you offer, then?” - -This time Henninger reflected. “I suppose you know as well as we do -how much there is,” he said, slowly, at last. “If my partners agree to -it, I don’t mind offering you two cases, holding about seventy-five -thousand dollars apiece. That will recoup you for your expenses in -coming here.” - -“It won’t do,” said Carlton, firmly. “Is that your best bid?” - -“It’s our only one. Take it or leave it,” replied Henninger, with -great unconcern. - -“We’ve got twenty well-armed men—fellows hired to fight,” hinted -Sevier, “but we don’t want to start trouble.” - -“Your twenty men will certainly cut your throats on the way back, if -you have an ounce of gold,” Henninger remarked. - -“They might, if we hadn’t put the terror into them coming down. -Carlton shot one last week.” - -“You shouldn’t let them get so much out of hand as that. But if you -accept our offer we’ll expect you to put to sea as soon as you have -the stuff. In any case, we can’t allow you to land on the island. You -must keep your distance.” - -“Think it over,” urged Sevier. “We’ll take one-third, and let you go -away with the rest.” - -“No,” said Henninger. - -“Then we’ll take it all,” Carlton abruptly declared, and walked away. -Sevier remained for a moment, looking at Henninger with an expression -of regret, and then turned after his companion. - -“Quick! Into the boat!” hissed Henninger. - -As they pushed off they saw Sevier and Carlton running toward the -landing party, who had dropped out of sight behind the scattered rocks -on the shore. A confused yell of warning came over the lagoon from the -dhow, and, the next instant, half a dozen irregular rifle-shots -banged. Elliott ducked low over the oar-handles. His pith helmet -jumped from his head and fell into the boat with a round hole through -the top; there was a rapid tingling like that of telegraph wires in -the air. - -Instantly the Mausers upon the dhow began to rattle. Henninger ripped -out a curse, and opened an ineffectual fire with his revolver. But the -rifle shots from the dhow were straighter. As he tugged at the oars, -shaking with wrath and excitement, Elliott saw Sevier go down as he -ran, rolling over and over. He was up instantly, but there was a red -blotch on the shoulder of his white jacket, and in a few seconds more -he was under cover with the rest of his party. - -The boat tore through the water, against the wind and waves that were -rising upon the lagoon. The enemy had turned their fire principally -upon the dhow, but still the bullets seemed to Elliott to follow one -another in unbroken succession. He had never been under fire before, -and a wild confusion of thoughts rushed through his mind. The boat, he -thought, was making scarcely any headway, though Henninger had sat -down opposite him and was pushing with all his weight upon the oars. -The missiles zipped past or cut hissing into the water. Twice the -gunwale was perforated, and then, all at once, they were in the -shelter of the dhow’s hull. - -“What are you doing on deck, Miss Laurie? Go below at once,” cried -Henninger, angrily, as he climbed on board. - -The dhow’s company were lying flat on the deck and firing across the -rail, which offered concealment rather than shelter. The crew had -taken refuge in the forecastle, with the exception of the reis, who -had squatted imperturbably on the deck. Margaret was sitting on the -planking behind the mast, with her pistol in her lap. - -“I did go below,” she answered. “But a bullet came right in through -the side of the ship. It’s just as safe here. Wingate!” she exclaimed, -as Elliott came over the rail, “you’re not hurt, are you?” - -“No, of course not. Lie down on the deck,” said Elliott, irritably, -“and put that gun away. You’re liable to hurt some one.” He felt -unaccountably bad-tempered, nervous, excited, and scared. - -“If those fellows get on the top of the hill,” Henninger snapped, -“they’ll be able to keep us off the deck. We’d better—” - -“Can’t we let the dhow drift to the island and capture the whole -bunch?” suggested Bennett. - -“We’d certainly lose a couple of men in doing it,” said Henninger, -more collectedly. “I wouldn’t risk it. What are they doing on the -steamer, Hawke? You’ve got the glasses.” - -“They’re lowering another boat!” Hawke cried. “Four—six—seven men in -her,” he continued, peering through the binoculars. - -“By thunder, they’ll smother us out!” exclaimed Bennett, and the -adventurers looked at one another for a moment in silence. - -“That boat mustn’t land,” said Henninger. “Set your sights for five -hundred yards, and don’t fire until I give the word; then pump it in -as fast as you can. Be sure to hit the boat, if nothing else.” - -The second boat had left the steamer and was being rowed toward the -island at a racing pace, veering to the west, to make the same -landing-place as the other. Henninger, struck by a sudden thought, -turned to the skipper. - -“Abdullah, can any of your men shoot? Bring up three of the best of -them and give them rifles. Take one yourself. We must put that boat -out of business before she touches the shore.” - -The reis went below and brought up three Arabs, who grinned as they -received the rifles, evidently delighted at the honour. The boat was -drawing nearer, still pulling to the west, and the party ashore began -to fire more rapidly to cover the landing. - -“Never mind them,” said Henninger. “Aim at the boat. Now!” - -The six Mausers went off like a single shot, and the Arabs poured in -their fire a second later. There was instant confusion in the boat, -which was just passing through the reef; an oar went up in the air, -and a white streak showed on her bow. As fast as the rifles could be -discharged the dhow’s company fired, thrusting fresh clips into the -magazines when they were empty. The cartridge-cases rattled out upon -the deck, and the rank smelling gas from the smokeless powder drifted -back chokingly. - -“Allah! Allah!” screamed the excited Arabs, as they manipulated their -weapons, shooting wildly in the direction of the enemy. But the -bullets were coming fast from the shore. Elliott again heard strange -sharp sounds whispering past his face. A great splinter flew up from -the rail, and suddenly Sullivan stood up jerkily on the deck. - -“Lie down!” Henninger howled at him, and the adventurer collapsed. The -front of his shirt was covered with bright red blood. Elliott sprang -to his side, dropping his rifle. - -“Sullivan’s hit!” he shouted. - -“Never mind him!” roared Henninger. “Let him alone, you fool. Keep up -the fire.” - -The boat was floating crazily about, with oars dipping in -contradictory directions. Her crew were standing up or lying down, and -firing a few wild shots. - -“I’ll look after him. Go back to your place,” said Margaret, creeping -up beside the fallen man. - -“Get under cover yourself!” cried Elliott, furiously. “You can’t do -anything. Why aren’t you below?” - -But the concentrated, rapid fire had already done its work. The boat -had drifted upon a reef, perforated undoubtedly in a dozen places. She -capsized with a sudden lunge upon the rocks, and her crew went into -the water, where a few swimming heads presently reappeared. - -“Don’t fire at them,” said Henninger, grimly contemplating the -swimmers. “They can’t hurt us; they’ve lost their rifles. How’s -Sullivan?” - -Margaret turned up a pale, frightened face, with eyes that were full -of tears. “I—don’t know,” she faltered. - -Sullivan’s eyes were open, but his face was already pale, and he lay -perfectly motionless on the deck. Henninger ripped open his shirt, -wiped the blood from the wound in the chest, and felt his wrist. - -“Shot through the heart,” he said, laying the arm down very gently. No -one spoke; they all gazed silently at the whitening face. A bullet, -fired from the island, ripped through the sail and plunged viciously -into the bulwark. - -“Elliott, you and Bennett carry him below,” commanded Henninger, -harshly. “No time for mourning now. Miss Laurie, you go below and stay -there. Don’t bunch together like that, the rest of you. We can’t -afford to lose any more men.” - -But for a few minutes the men ashore ceased their fire. When Elliott -came on deck again the smoke had blown clear. The steamer lay immobile -in the offing, heaving upon the roughening sea, and the wrecked boat -was bobbing up and down in the surf, bottom upward. There were no -signs of the fight but the scattered cartridge-cases on the deck, a -few splintered holes in the woodwork and a red smear on the planking. - -Henninger took the glass and carefully scrutinized the steamer, and -then turned his gaze upon the island. - -“I don’t know what they’re up to,” he said, with dissatisfaction. “I -can’t see a hair of them. Either they’re lying mighty close, or else -they’ve slipped around the hill and are climbing to the top. I can see -another boat on the steamer, but I don’t think it’ll try to come -ashore—not till dark, anyway.” - -“But they’ve got nothing but some kind of sporting rifles, burning -black powder,” said Hawke. “Good rifles, but they haven’t near the -range of our Mausers. We could lie off and pepper them, if we could -get to sea.” - -“Yes, we must get out of this lagoon. It’s a regular trap,” said -Henninger. - -“And they’ve got no water on the island,” Bennett remarked. - -At this remark Elliott realized that his throat was parching. He -brought a bucket of water aft, and they all drank enormously. It was -very hot, though the sun was veiled in gray clouds and the sea was -rising under the rising southeast wind, the prevailing wind on the -east coast at that season. - -“There was a rainwater pool on the island when I was there,” Bennett -went on. “I found it very useful. But it may be dry now, and anyhow -it’s at the other end of the island, and they can’t get to it.” - -“Hang it all, why can’t we put to sea and let the rest of the treasure -go?” ejaculated Elliott, sickening at the thought of what the gold had -already cost. - -“Because with that steamer they’d follow us, wear us out, and maybe -run us down,” said Henninger. “But we must get out of the lagoon and -have sea-room as soon as possible.” - -Thud! Something cut through the upper portion of the mizzen-sail and -plunged into the deck. Whiz-z-ip! Another missile hit the barrel of -Bennett’s rifle and glanced away, screaming harshly. Bennett dropped -the gun from his tingling fingers. A third bullet lodged in the mast, -and another ploughed a deep furrow in the rail, and glanced again. - -“Where did that come from?” yelled Hawke; and “Look!” shouted Elliott -at the same moment, pointing shoreward. - -The top of the hill upon the island was crowned with white smoke, and -as they looked three or four fresh puffs of vapour bloomed out and -blew down the wind, with a distant popping report. Zip! Thud! the -bullets sang down and plunged into the planking. - -“They’ve got to the hill. Scatter! Scatter! Lie down!” cried -Henninger, flinging himself flat on the deck. But on the hill not a -man was to be seen. The invaders had stowed themselves so snugly -behind the irregular boulders that not so much as a rifle muzzle -showed, and a plunging fire beat down upon the dhow’s exposed -after-deck. - -“Gee! this is hot!” exclaimed Hawke, as a bullet ploughed the deck not -six inches from his shoulder. - -“Too hot!” said Henninger. “We can’t stay up here.” He jumped up and -dived for the hatch, and the others followed him, crouching low. They -tumbled down the ladder almost in a heap, and found Margaret sitting -on a locker in the cabin beside the door of the strong-room. Six feet -away Sullivan’s body lay, a rigid outline, under a blanket. - -“We’re trapped sure enough!” exclaimed Hawke, breathing heavily. He -went to the stern port-light and looked out cautiously. The window -gave a view of the island, where the concealed marksmen had ceased to -fire, but the steamer could not be seen. - -“The tables are turned. They can starve us out now,” Hawke went on -nervously. - -“Surely not. We can get to sea, can’t we, Henninger?” said Elliott. - -“I don’t know,” replied Henninger, abstractedly. He was looking -through the port, and he finally thrust his head out to look at the -steamer. “Look out!” he cried, dodging inside again with agility. - -He had drawn another volley from the watchful rifles on the hill, but -the stern timbers of the dhow were thick enough to keep out the lead, -and no bullet entered the port. Two or three shots came crashing down -through the deck, splintering the under side of the planking, but -doing no further damage. - -“They’re determined to keep us smothered,” said Hawke. - -For perhaps fifteen minutes there was a lull, and then a man stood up -on the hill waving a white streamer, and began to descend. He reached -the shore, boarded the boat, and began to row out with some -difficulty, but apparent fearlessness. He was easily recognizable -through the glass, and when he was within a hundred yards Henninger -hailed him. - -“Don’t come any nearer, Carlton. What do you want?” - -“We’ll give you one-third and let you go,” shouted Carlton, standing -up in the plunging boat. - -“You’ll get all of it, or none,” answered Henninger, and without -another word Carlton rowed himself back to shore. - -“Serve him right to take a shot at him,” muttered Hawke, handling his -rifle. - -“No, don’t do that,” said Elliott. “Let’s fight fair, if we are in a -close corner.” - -But the fighting was delayed. For hours deep peace brooded over the -island, while the whitecaps grew, crashing upon the reef, and the dhow -strained at her single cable. The steamer was invisible, owing to her -position, but she blew her whistle several times in a curious fashion, -to which answer was made by the wigwagging of a white cloth just -visible above the crest of the hill. - -“They’re plotting something. I wish I knew what it was,” Henninger -said, anxiously, searching the hill with the glass. - -“The reis thinks the cable won’t hold if the weather freshens much -more,” said Bennett, who had been conversing with the skipper. “If it -breaks we’ll drift on the island, and they’ll sure have us.” - -“Don’t borrow trouble,” said Elliott. - - - - - CHAPTER XIX. THE SECOND WRECK - - -But the kedge cable held nobly, while the long afternoon passed slowly -away, though its straining could be felt in every part of the vessel, -and it twanged and hummed taut as a violin string. There were no -provisions of any sort in the cabin, and, toward evening, Elliott -undertook to go forward along the deck to obtain something from the -galley. There had been no firing for hours, but the garrison of the -hilltop then demonstrated their vigilance. Before Elliott’s body was -out of the hatch the distant rifles were snapping, and so sharp a -fusilade was opened that he had to go back. Finally, Henninger cut a -hole in the bulkhead with an axe, through which food was passed by the -crew. The Mussulmans in the forecastle were quietly smoking or -sleeping away the hours, apparently totally unperturbed by the fight. -They had nothing to do; it was none of their affair, and they were in -safe cover. - -Late in the afternoon it had rained heavily for half an hour, and the -sun went down in a bank of clouds. It was perfectly dark in fifteen -minutes, and there was every prospect of a rough night. The surf -crashed upon the reef, sending showers of spray over the _Clara -McClay’s_ wreck, and occasionally deluging the dhow. The rigging -hummed and tingled like the cable, but the breeze appeared to be -shifting to the east, for the dhow was drifting to westward, and -across the gap in the barrier reef. - -In the safety of the darkness the whole party returned to the deck to -escape the stifling air of the cabin. The sky was clouded inky black, -and intermittent dashes of rain mingled with the spatter of the spray. -In the darkness to the eastward gleamed the red starboard light of the -steamer, with a white riding-light at her masthead. Complete darkness -covered the island and the hill; it was impossible to ascertain -whether the landing party were still there or whether they had -returned aboard their ship. - -Hawke fired an experimental shot at the island, but there was no -reply. The night seemed full of mystery and invisible danger, and it -was hot and oppressive, in spite of rain and wind. The dhow plunged -and quivered as she tugged at her restraining cable, that seemed as if -it must break at every lurch. But it held firmly for a whole anxious -hour, when a heavier downpour of rain sent the adventurers below again -for shelter. - -The possibility of getting to sea was debated, but it seemed too -dangerous an attempt in the face of the foul weather and the southeast -wind. But the enforced truce and suspense was more harassing to the -nerves than any actual conflict could have been. The lamp swinging -wildly from the ceiling lit up the cabin with a smoky yellow light; on -one side lay Sullivan’s corpse under the gray blanket, seeming, -Elliott fancied, to chill the room with its presence; on the other -side was the locked and iron-barred door to the gold for which the -adventurer had died. The rifles stood stacked in a corner, and the men -gathered near the port-hole for the sake of air, and discussed the -situation till their ideas were exhausted. After an hour or so, in -sheer nervous despair, Henninger and Bennett took to playing seven-up -on the floor, and Elliott presently took a hand in the game. He played -mechanically, paying no attention to the score, hardly knowing what he -did, and seeing the faces of the cards with eyes that scarcely -recognized them. Margaret sat on the locker and seemed to doze a -little; while Hawke prowled restlessly about, now looking over the -shoulders of the card-players, now peering through the port, and now -climbing half-way up the ladder to the deck. - -“It’s stopped raining,” he reported, after one of these ascents. -“Looks as if it might clear up.” A few minutes later he went up again. -They heard his feet on the planking overhead, and then a startled -shout. - -“The steamer!” - -Henninger dropped his cards, and dashed up the ladder, with Elliott -and Bennett at his heels. “What about the steamer?” he cried. - -“Where is she? What’s become of her?” - -That part of the night where the steamer’s lights had shone was blank. -Henninger whistled, and then swore. - -“She was there ten minutes ago,” Hawke protested. - -“Maybe the wind has blown out her lights. She can’t have cleared out, -can she?” said Elliott. - -“Cleared out? Not a bit of it,” said Henninger. “They’ve doused the -lights themselves. Can’t you see what they’re trying to do? Here, -Abdullah! Can we get to sea at once?” - -The reis glanced gravely at the darkness where the sea roared through -the gap in the reef, and then gravely back to his employer. - -“It is as Allah wills,” he said. “But it cannot be done by men.” - -“But Allah does will it!” cried Henninger, violently. “Call your men -up. We must be outside the lagoon in half an hour.” - -“Great heavens, Henninger! you aren’t going to try to take the dhow -out through the gap in this pitch-dark?” Bennett exclaimed. - -“Yes, I am. We’ve got to do it. Don’t you understand that the first -thing in the morning we’ll be riddled from both sides? Those fellows -are bringing up the steamer in the dark, to lie close off our -position. But I reckon we can do something in the dark, too.” - -“You’ll smash us, sure,” Elliott protested. - -“I know something about sailing, and I’ve seen the Arabs do neater -tricks than that at Zanzibar. We can do it. There’s a chance, anyhow, -and I’d rather see the gold sunk again than have to surrender it in -the morning. Confound it, reis, when are we going to start?” - -The Arab cast another gloomy glance at the reef, shrugged his -shoulders with racial fatalism, and went forward to call up the men. -Henninger dashed below, came up with an axe, and started toward the -bow. - -“Stop! You’re not going to cut that cable. Don’t you know that the -bight’ll fly up and kill you?” shouted Bennett, intercepting him. - -“That’s so. I forgot,” admitted Henninger, pausing. - -“But the whole scheme is mad—suicidal,” Bennett added, angrily. - -“No, let’s get away at any risk!” exclaimed Margaret, who had come on -deck. - -“Halloo, you must go below again,” said Elliott. “Or, wait a moment.” -He cut loose a life-belt and buckled it round her. “Perhaps you had -better stay on deck after all, for as like as not we’re going to the -bottom. Hang on to the dhow if we strike, and don’t let yourself get -carried against the rocks. I’ll look after you.” - -The Arab seamen were stationing themselves about the deck without a -protest of word or gesture against the dangerous manœuvre that was to -be attempted, and Elliott’s courage rose at the sight of their -coolness. The danger of the attempt lay almost wholly in the thick -darkness. The gap was nearly thirty yards wide, and the weather had -shifted so far to the east that the dhow could run out with a wind -abeam, provided that she could hit the gap. But there were no lights, -no steering guides, but the indistinct break in the whiteness of the -surf, and the vague difference in the tone of the breakers where the -reef interposed no barrier. - -The reis took the tiller, and a seaman went forward, picked up the axe -which Henninger had dropped, and scanned the cable narrowly. -Dextrously, carefully, he struck three light blows with the steel, -cutting it partly through, and skipped back out of danger. The dhow -heaved; a sensation of rending ran from the bows throughout her -timbers; and suddenly, with a bang like a gunshot, the cable parted, -and the dhow began to drift rapidly, stern first. - -The reis shouted in guttural Arabic, and sheet and tiller brought her -round. She began to run diagonally toward the island, heading almost -straight for the hill, with the wind abeam. In the bows a seaman cast -a short lead-line incessantly, calling the depth with a weird cry. The -sky was clearing slightly, as Hawke had said, and Henninger had -observed it with a worried expression. The dhow’s spread of white -canvas would be visible in the night where the black hull of the -steamer would remain unseen, and their only chance lay in making open -water and running below the horizon before they were sighted by the -speedier craft. - -After a short tack the dhow went about, and headed back as she had -come. The crucial moment was at hand. The reis stared ahead, stooping -slightly to get a clear view under the sails, though to Elliott’s eyes -the darkness was impenetrable. - -“Those Arabs can see in the dark like cats,” muttered Henninger, at -his elbow. - -The helmsman brought her up a little more into the wind, and shouted -another order. There was a rush of barefooted Moslems across the -heeling deck, and the dhow darted forward, straight for a roaring line -of invisible rocks. - -“What’s that?” called Bennett, sharply. - -Away in the darkness to the east Elliott too had seen a faint glow in -the air and a momentary puff of red sparks blown off and instantly -extinguished. It could be nothing but a flash from the funnel of the -steamer; she must be coming up, and at full speed. But in another -half-minute the dhow would be either in the open sea or at the bottom, -and he gripped the rail with a thrill of such intense excitement as he -had never known in his life. - -For a moment he thought they were going to the bottom. The reef -thundered right under the bows. He had no idea where the gap lay, and -he started instinctively to go to Margaret, bracing himself for the -shock of the smash. A deluge of spray roared over her prow; he -imagined he felt her keel actually scrape, and she came up a little -more into the wind. He caught a glimpse of the ghostly outline of the -rock-staked wreck, whitened with its filth—then there was a wild -plunge, a tumult of waters all round them, and then the shock of the -encounter with heavier breakers, the big rollers outside. Drenched, -dizzy, and half-blinded, Elliott became aware that the dhow was -running more freely to the southwest, and that the surf was booming on -the starboard bow. - -“We’re out!” yelled Henninger. “By Jove, I’ll give the reis an extra -thousand for this!” - -“Look there!” called Hawke, pointing astern. A gust of bright sparks, -such as Elliott had seen before, was driving down the wind, followed -by another, and another. There was a streak of faint glowing haze in -the gloom. - -“They’re after us. They’ve sighted our white canvas!” exclaimed -Henninger. - -“Maybe not. They may be only taking a position off the gap,” said -Elliott. - -No one replied to this suggestion. The adventurers strained their eyes -toward the intermittent flashes of sparks and illuminated smoke from -the still invisible steamer. She must be half a mile away, but the -sparks indicated that she was running at high speed, and she could -readily overhaul them, if indeed their escape had been detected. - -“She’s passed the gap. She’s after us!” said Henninger, after a couple -of anxious minutes. “Bring up the rifles. It’ll come to shooting -again.” - -There was a rush down the ladder to the cabin where the weapons had -been left. When they returned to the deck it was almost certain that -the steamer was really in pursuit. The gusts of flying sparks were -growing continuous; she was forcing her speed, and it seemed to -Elliott that he could almost distinguish her black, plunging hull, and -hear the vibration of her engines above the charge and crash of the -white-topped rollers. - -“Haul in as close to the reef as you can,” commanded Henninger to the -skipper. “We can sail in water where she daren’t go.” - -The leadsman was set to work again, and the dhow steered in close, -perilously close, to the white line of surf. She was rounding the -western end of the island now, running with a three-quarter wind, but -the steamer was cutting down her lead with great strides. The ships -were only a quarter of a mile apart; they were less than that; and now -Elliott could see the volumes of black smoke rolling furiously across -the clearing sky, and now he made out, vaguely but certainly, the dark -bulk of the pursuer. She was following them, running recklessly into -the shoaling water. The jumping throb of her screw beat across the -sea, but she remained dark as midnight, except for the showers of red -cinders flying from her draught. - -Suddenly a dozen lanterns blazed up on board the steamer. She was -scarcely two hundred yards astern, and she seemed to loom like a -mountain above the dhow. Two shadowy figures stood on her bridge, with -tense excitement in every line of the pose as they clutched the iron -railing. In the wheel-house the faint outline of another man showed, -grasping the spokes, illumined by the dim glow of the binnacle lamp. -They heard the crash of the seas on her iron side as she tore ahead; -and, startlingly, a brilliant light was flashed on the dhow from a -strong reflector, and a gigantic voice bellowed at them through a -megaphone. - -“Ahoy! Ahoy! the dhow!” it roared. “Henninger, Henninger, heave to -instantly, or, by God, we will run you down!” - -It was Carlton’s voice that shouted, and Henninger in answer heaved up -his Mauser. “Fire at the wheel-house!” he cried, and all of his party -caught the chance. “Crack! Cr-rack!” the rifles spluttered. Elliott -thought he heard a sharp cry. A couple of wild shots flashed in reply -from the towering deck. The blinding light went out, and in the glow -of the wheel-house Elliott saw the steersman fall, reeling aside, -still clinging to the spokes. - -The steamer sheered violently to starboard. A man leaped from the -bridge to the wheel, but it was too late; she was running too fast, -and was already too close to the reefs. A wild yell rang over the sea, -drowned by a mighty crash and rattle. The steamer had plunged, bows -on, sheer upon the rocks, and lay there under a shower of whitening -spray. - -Elliott had shouted, too, in uncontrollable excitement, but when he -realized the wreck he turned quickly to Henninger. “We must stand by -them,” he cried. “They may go to pieces.” - -The Englishman was leaning on the rail, and looking coolly at the -second victim of the reef. - -“Bring her round, Abdullah,” he ordered, at last. “We’ll see what kind -of a mess they’re in, anyhow.” - -The dhow went about, stood to the south, and came back on the other -tack to the island. The steamer was lying with her bows much higher -than her stern, but she did not seem to pound as she lay. Her steam -was blowing off shriekingly in white clouds in the dark, and a dozen -lanterns were flittering about her decks. - -“Hello—the steamer!” hailed Henninger. “Do you want any help?” - -The hurrying lanterns stood still for a moment, and presently Sevier’s -voice replied, angrily, “No!” - -But in a few seconds he cried again, “Stand by till daylight, will -you? We don’t know how badly she’s smashed.” - -“The worse the better,” Henninger commented. “We ought to run straight -for Cape Town, and let them fry in their own fix.” - -“Good gracious, you wouldn’t do that?” exclaimed Hawke, and Henninger -rather grudgingly assented. The dhow stood off and on all night, while -the sky cleared and the breeze died away toward the approach of dawn. -Daylight revealed the steamer lying with her nose pushed several feet -upon the rough barrier, and her stern afloat. - -“She seems to lie easy enough,” said Henninger, examining her through -the glasses. “I fancy she happened to hit a soft spot, and they’ll -very likely be able to float her off at high tide. It was almost low -water when she struck, wasn’t it?” - -Men were hurrying about her decks, looking over the side, and they -already had a boatswain’s chair slung almost to the surface of the -water, from which a man was examining the position of the bow. As the -dhow approached, a white signal was waved from the bridge, and the -megaphone roared hoarsely again. - -“We want to talk to you. Will you let me come aboard you?” - -“That’s Sevier,” said Elliott. - -“Yes, if you come alone,” Henninger shouted back, and in a few minutes -a boat was got overboard from the steamer, with a red-capped seaman at -the oars, and a man in white clothing in the stern. - -This was indeed Sevier, but scarcely recognizable as the smooth and -well-dressed Southerner as he climbed with difficulty over the dhow’s -rail. His white duck garments were torn, blackened, wet, and muddy. -His face was grimed with powder, unshaven, and reddened with the sun, -and his right arm had the sleeve cut from it and was suspended in -crimson-stained bandages. He had lost his characteristic suavity, and -he glanced savagely about as he stepped upon the deck. - -“This has been a bad business all round,” he said, as Henninger came -forward to meet him. “I’ve come to see what terms you’ll make.” - -“We won’t make any,” replied Henninger. - -“Then we’ll fight it out.” - -Henninger laughed rather harshly. “You can go back and begin as soon -as you like. You make me tired,” he added. “You’ve lost half your men, -you’re fast on the reef, you’re wounded, and yet you try to bluff us. -Don’t you know any better than that? Our weapons have twice the range -of yours. We could take your whole outfit if we thought it was worth -while, and maroon you here—and you want us to make terms to be allowed -to go away in peace. Fight it out, if it suits you. We’ll leave you -here to fight as long as you please.” - -“We’re not so bad as that,” said Sevier. “Our ship’ll float at the -next tide. And there are ten men aboard with rifles, and at this range -they’d clear off your decks in about ten seconds.” - -Henninger glanced quickly at the steamer. - -“Let them fire away then,” he said, tranquilly. - -Sevier turned to his boat, hesitated, and then came back. - -“Will you give us a share of the stuff? Say fifty thousand—twenty -thousand?” - -“Not a hundred. Not one cent.” - -“Look here!” cried Sevier, with sudden passion. “Don’t you drive a -desperate man too far. I won’t try to bluff you. Our men won’t fight -any more, I’ll admit; they’re a lot of dogs. And Carlton’s dead—” - -“Carlton killed?” exclaimed Henninger, taken by surprise. - -“He was shot last night on the bridge, just before she went ashore. He -died in an hour. It don’t matter; he was never more than a brute. But -we can float the steamer in a day or two and make Zanzibar easy, and -I’m ruined, clean, stony broke, and there isn’t anything that I’ll -stick at. I’ll inform the British resident there, and you’ll be -arrested at the first port you touch. You’ll find the Crown’ll claim -that gold pretty quick.” - -“You daren’t do it,” said Henninger, coolly. “You’ve got a record -yourself, and you’ve tried to commit piracy.” - -“I don’t care. For that matter, I can just as easy prove piracy -against you. I’ll see your crowd done up anyhow, and I’d as soon be -jailed as broke.” - -Henninger appeared to reflect, and took a turn up and down the deck. -“I’ll tell you,” he said, finally. “There are two chests of about -seventy or eighty thousand dollars apiece still in the after-hold of -the wreck. We’ve got all the rest, and they were the ones I meant to -give you when I made our first offer. We’ll leave them for you, after -all, and that’ll stake you again.” - -“I’d never get a cent of it,” answered Sevier, sullenly. “We’ve got a -rough crew aboard, and they’re out of all control.” - -“Then—we’ll give you one gold brick, just one. That’ll help you to -some sort of boat, and you can come back again for the rest.” - -“Will you express it to me at Cairo from the first port you touch?” -enquired Sevier, eagerly. - -“Yes, we’ll do that, too. But understand, this isn’t a share, nor yet -blackmail. It’s simply charity—it’s alms.” - -“Confound it, don’t bully him, Henninger,” muttered Elliott, as the -Alabaman flushed darkly. - -“Oh, I can stand it,” said Sevier, containing himself with an obvious -effort. “I’ll take the alms, and say thank you. I’ll look for it at -Cairo.” - -He bowed with an exaggerated flourish, purple with rage and -humiliation, and descended into his boat without another word. The -boat put back toward the steamer, but before it reached her the dhow -was a mile to the southward, on a wide tack toward her home port. - - - - - CHAPTER XX. THE RAINBOW ROAD - - -“What’s your plan for getting home with all this gold, Henninger?” -asked Elliott “I hardly dared to think of that till we’d got away from -the island.” - -It was almost eleven o’clock at night, and the moonlight broke -intermittently from a cloudy sky. The dhow was beating in long tacks -down the Mozambique Channel, with a fresh, warm wind blowing from the -southeast. Elliott was on guard duty at the after-hatch, sitting on an -inverted bucket with a Mauser across his knees; Henninger and Bennett -were lingering about the quarter-deck before turning in, and Hawke -stood sentinel over the door of the strong-room and talked up the -companionway. Day and night two men were always on duty over the -treasure; it had been so ever since the gold had come aboard, and the -system would not be relaxed while the voyage lasted. This would not be -much longer, however, for they were already six days from the latitude -of the battle and wreck, where Sullivan lay in deep water, with three -firebars sewn up in his canvas coffin. - -“We can’t sail this craft to England, let alone to America,” Bennett -remarked. - -In spite of success, a certain depression seemed to have settled upon -them all. Perhaps it was due to the oppressive heat; perhaps it was -the inevitable reaction from excitement and victory. In the faint rays -of the deck lantern Elliott could scarcely see his comrades’ faces, -but by daylight they looked ten years older. - -“This is the plan I had thought of,” replied Henninger, “though I -hardly dared to mention it, as you say, till we had really won out. -We’ll run into Durban and divide the gold on board. Some of it we will -deposit in the banks there; some we’ll deposit in Cape Town, a little -at a time, so as not to attract attention. We can express some of it -to New York, and one or two of us can sail for England on the -mail-steamer and take some of it along. The important thing is to -scatter it, and I think we can get off quite unnoticed, if we are -careful.” - -“Just how much did we make of it?” asked Hawke, from the bottom of the -companion-ladder. - -“One million, seven hundred thousand, and odd,” replied Henninger, in -an uninterested tone. “Nearly three hundred and fifty thousand apiece. -Of course, if we can find anything of any of Sullivan’s relatives -we’ll fix them up with his share.” - -“What are you going to do with your share of it?” Bennett inquired, -curiously. - -Henninger gave a short laugh. “How do I know? Blow it in, I suppose, -in some fool way, and go out looking for more. What I imagine I’m -going to do is to live on it for the rest of my life, but I know -myself better than that. It means an income of say fourteen thousand a -year, doesn’t it? I’ve seen that much put on the turn of a card.” - -“Don’t go and be a fool,” said Elliott “I’ve lived for most of my -years on about one-tenth of fourteen thousand.” - -“And I’ve lived for months on nothing at all. No, it’s no use handing -out nice, sensible motherly advice, for there’s only one kind of life -for me. I’ve got the fever in me, and I’ll be looking for the road to -the end of the rainbow as long as I live, I fancy. Do you remember our -conversation on the Atlantic liner, Elliott? I never said so much for -myself before or since, and I won’t do it now, thanks. Talk to Hawke -and Bennett; they haven’t been on the rainbow road so long.” - -“You said that night that you wanted to win this game so as to get out -of grafting,” Elliott retorted. - -“Well, so I do—only I know I won’t,” said Henninger. - -“Do you know what I’m going to do?” remarked Hawke. “You’ll laugh, but -I’m going to buy a half-interest in a big bee ranch in California. -It’s an ideal life. The bees do all the work, and all you have to do -is to lie in the shade and collect profits once in awhile. You can run -a fruit farm on the side, and there’s big money in it.” - -“That’s what I should like above all things,” said Margaret, who came -aft at that moment. - -“What will you do, Elliott?” queried Henninger, half-ironically. - -“I don’t know,” said Elliott, vaguely, glancing up at the girl, who -leaned against the rail, balancing herself easily as the dhow rolled. -“The first thing is to make sure of getting away with the stuff. -Henninger thinks we had better put in at Durban, Miss Laurie, and -divide the gold and scatter it as much as possible.” - -“What for? Will any one rob us?” asked Margaret, quickly. - -“Yes—the government police,” said Bennett. - -“But I thought—Haven’t we a right to the gold? Isn’t it ours?” - -“Heaven knows it ought to be, after all we’ve gone through,” remarked -Elliott. - -“But isn’t it?” Margaret insisted. - -“You’re not sophisticated enough, Miss Laurie,” said Henninger. -“There’s always a claimant for as much money as this. The gold seems -to have been stolen from the Transvaal government, and it’s certain -that the English government will claim it—if they hear that it’s been -recovered. But we don’t intend that they shall hear.” - -“Then this gold belongs to the English government?” - -“I thought you understood the situation. Legally, perhaps, it does, -but—” - -“Then I shall not take an atom of it,” said Margaret. - -“But you must!” exclaimed Elliott. “We’re injuring no one—” - -“I’m not a thief,” Margaret interrupted again, and walked forward. - -The adventurers looked at one another, disconcerted, and Hawke climbed -up the ladder to look with an alarmed countenance over the deck. - -“She’s got to take it,” said Bennett. - -“Yes, of course she must take her share,” agreed Henninger. “Gad, -she’s the pluckiest woman I ever saw. She’s been a regular brick all -through this thing.” - -“She’ll take it or not, as she pleases,” said Elliott, in an unusually -aggressive tone, and failing to grasp the humour of the situation. - -“Maybe you won’t take any of it yourself,” Hawke satirized. - -“There’ll be all the more for the rest of you if I don’t,” returned -Elliott. - -“The fact is, we’re all getting nervous and morbid,” Henninger -remarked. “A good sleep is the best antidote, and I’m going to turn -in.” - -Bennett also swathed himself in his blanket and sought a soft plank by -the lee rail, with the prospect of being rolled across the deck when -the dhow should go upon the other tack. Hawke retired out of sight -below, and Elliott was left to silence. - -Under the stiffly drawn sails he could see Margaret still leaning over -the bow. Behind him an Arab bore heavily upon the tiller-head, holding -her steady, and it occurred to Elliott that the man could stab him in -the back with the greatest ease. It would not be an unfitting -conclusion for the adventure that was stained with so much blood -already; and he imagined the sudden rising of the Moslem crew, the -brief melée, the flash of pistols and knives, the massacre on the -reeling deck. But he continued to sit on the keg, with his back to the -helmsman, and did not trouble to turn around. - -A yard beneath his feet were nearly two million dollars in hard gold; -the treasure that had spun so much intrigue and mystery over three -continents was in his power at last. But the price had been paid; -there had been blood enough spilled to redden every sovereign or louis -or double-eagle that might ever be minted from the metal. Elliott -fancied he heard the crash of the _Clara McClay_ on the reefs when all -but two of her company had perished. He remembered the revolver drawn -on the platform of the St. Louis train, and the bleeding figure of -Bennett beside the rails. He saw vividly the gambling-rooms; he saw -the missionary reeling back from the red knife; he saw Sullivan with -the widening scarlet stain on his breast, and he heard again the -fierce hail from Sevier’s steamer, and heard the crash as she rammed -the rocks where the _Clara McClay_ had perished months before. And, as -he brooded there in the dark, there arose in him a loathing and a -horror of the gold that had worked like a potent poison in the heart -of every man who had known of it. - -In the whole adventure there was but one period that had left no -bitter taste. He remembered the interlude from the treasure hunt at -Hongkong, and the bungalow on the Peak, where for a month there was -neither the bewilderment of tangled mysteries nor the feverish -excitement of greed. The heat, the rain, the miseries that had -tortured him, he had already forgotten, or he remembered them only -dimly as the discomforts that emphasized more keenly the graceful and -domestic charm of such a home as he had never known before. - -The Arab steersman droned softly to himself as he leaned on the -creaking tiller behind. Margaret had not yet gone to her hammock. He -could see her still at the bow, looking forward over the sweeping seas -in the cloudy moonlight. She thought him a thief; she had as good as -said so; and he watched her, feeling strangely as if everything -depended upon her staying there till he was released from duty. - -Bennett came up at midnight to relieve him, and Elliott went forward -at once. But he could think of nothing in the manner of what he wanted -to say, and after a few commonplaces he fell silent, and they leaned -over the prow together, listening to the sucking gurgle and the -hissing crash as the cutwater split the seas. - -“I want you to see clearly just why I insisted on coming with you,” -said Margaret, breaking the silence at last. “I didn’t understand it -at all, then. My father had spoken of recovering this gold—he couldn’t -have known that it was government money—and I supposed that it was -right to do it. In fact, I felt almost as if he had left it to me. -Then I had no money—nothing. I knew that I was dependent on you for -everything. It was even your money that brought me from China; I know -it was, though the consul said he advanced it to me. It nearly -maddened me with shame, and—I didn’t know what to do. Only I knew that -I couldn’t take anything more from you. I thought I had a right to a -share of this gold, but I couldn’t even let you go and do the work for -me. I had to help, and do my part—and so I did it. - -“But now it’s all over. I understand it all as I didn’t before, and -you see that I can’t take a cent of this money. I should feel myself a -criminal as long as I lived. But I don’t blame you for taking it, if -you feel that you can.” - -“I’m not going to take any of it, either,” Elliott interrupted. - -She was silent for nearly a minute, and then said, in a curious, -almost harsh, voice, “Why not?” - -“Because there are other things I value more—your good opinion, for -instance,” said Elliott, with difficulty, feeling all the painful joys -of renunciation. He wanted to say more; he struggled vainly for words, -but after an ineffectual effort he fell back upon a practical -question. - -“What will you do, then?” - -“I’ve been thinking of that,” she said. “I shall try to get something -to do at the Cape. I can always make a living. I can do almost -anything.” - -“Oh, heavens! You mustn’t do that. You sha’n’t!” groaned Elliott. - -“Why not?” she said, with a smile. “Do you know, it is almost a relief -to have the weight of that terrible treasure taken away. It has been a -sort of curse to every one, I think. But it seems a pity, doesn’t it, -that we should get nothing at all for having worked so hard and -travelled so far and risked so much. The government ought to refund -our expenses, anyway.” - -“Salvage! I should think so!” cried Elliott, smiting his hand on the -rail. “Why didn’t I think of it before? Of course we have a claim for -our trouble and expense, and we can collect it, too, if we turn in our -share of the stuff to the Crown.” - -“But I suppose they would allow us only a trifle, after all,” said -Margaret. - -“Not a bit of it. Twenty to fifty per cent. of the value is always -paid for salvaging a cargo. Your share now is nearly three hundred and -fifty thousand dollars, and at least a hundred thousand of that will -be honestly, lawfully yours. Any court will award it to you.” - -“But will Mr. Henninger—” - -“Henninger and the others will never give up a cent of their share; I -know that. We mustn’t spoil their plans, I suppose, so we will give -them time to get safely clear. Then we will surrender our part of it, -and present our bill for expenses, and say nothing about any more -having been recovered. The Crown will be glad enough to get any of it -back.” - -“This is the best news of all!” said Margaret, with a long breath. “A -hundred thousand dollars! That will be fabulous wealth to me! I can -have all the things, and see all the things, and do all the things -that I dreamed of all my life and never expected to realize. Now I -believe I’m really glad to be rich again. Aren’t you?” - -“I don’t know,” Elliott muttered. - -“I think we ought to try to use this money so as to justify having -it,” Margaret went on. “It has cost so much misery and so many lives, -and I want to spend it so as to make it clean again. I want to make -others happy with it, as well as be happy myself. What are you going -to do with it?” - -“I don’t know,” Elliott burst out. “I don’t value this money, whether -it’s a hundred thousand or a million, not a straw. I’d throw it away; -I’d blow it in, like Henninger—God knows what I’ll do with it. There’s -only one thing that I really want I told you what it was at that hotel -in New York, and you ordered me never to speak of it again. If I can’t -have that I don’t care much what becomes of the money, or of anything -else.” - -“Don’t say that. Don’t speak of that—not now!” murmured Margaret; and -as he hesitated she turned quickly away and slipped toward the stern -companionway. “You won’t lose by waiting,” was what she left in a -semi-audible whisper as she vanished, and Elliott had this to ponder -on as he stood watching the heavy swell rolling blackly toward Africa, -toward Durban, where the dhow was due in another day. - -But it was really two days before she glided up the port and anchored -innocently in the bay, looking anything but the treasure-ship she was. -And now the most harassing, the most anxious and delicate part of the -whole adventure was begun. - -Margaret went on to Cape Town at once, with instructions to secure a -maid in that city as a travelling companion and to sail direct for -London. And in her absence the gold was taken ashore piece-meal, in -pockets and travelling-bags and hat-boxes, and little by little -exchanged for clean Bank of England notes and shiny sovereigns. Over -$150,000 was sold in Durban, and then the party proceeded to Cape -Town, where, following the same procedure, nearly twice as much was -passed over to the banks for specie. - -The rest, Henninger decided, could best be disposed of in America, and -he was, besides, anxious to get out of British territory as soon as -possible. Accordingly the dhow was dismantled, the crew paid off, the -reis given a present of two hundred sovereigns above his salary, and -Henninger, Hawke, and Bennett sailed for New York direct, with a -mountain of trunks, each containing a few gold blocks packed among -unnecessary clothing. And two days afterward Elliott took passage for -England with six hundred and forty thousand dollars, being his own and -Margaret’s share of the cargo of the _Clara McClay_. - -Margaret was prepared for his coming, and between them the treasure -was safely deposited in the bank, at which Elliott felt an incubus -lifted from his mind. The next step was to secure an experienced -marine lawyer to forward their salvage claims. - -This gentleman, after passing through a stage of stupefaction at their -unexampled scrupulosity, advised that a claim of forty per cent. of -the value be made, in consideration of the circumstances of the case. -They made it, and then there was long to wait. Red tape, Treasury -tape, Admiralty tape, civil tape was unrolled to a disheartening -length, and the new Transvaal Crown Colony even put in its claim, as -the original owner of the bullion. In the midst of the delay Elliott -received a message from Henninger: - -“We have disposed of all our goods,” he wrote. “Go ahead and make the -best terms you can. Hawke has gone to California to start his bee -farm, but he thinks he will look into a few mining deals in Nevada -before he gets there. Bennett is playing the races on a system. I am -saving my money at present, but I see a chance to double my money in -Venezuela. The treasure trail is a long trail, and we’re not at the -end of the rainbow yet.” - -And in England Elliott and Margaret were finding the latter stages of -the treasure trail long indeed. The salvage case took a great deal of -deciding; the courts appeared to be convinced that some occult -dishonesty must be concealed beneath the offer to restore any part of -the lost treasure, and haggled over the percentage in a manner, it -appeared to Elliott, highly unworthy of the traditions of a mighty -nation. Ultimately, however, a compromise was arrived at. The -government would pay thirty-three per cent.; and Elliott surrendered -the bullion and received back two hundred and twelve thousand dollars, -which he divided equally with Margaret. Six days later they were at -sea, bound out of Southampton for New York. - -Surely, Elliott thought, this was the last of the long trail, as he -listened to the regular “swish—crash!” on her bows that had become so -odiously familiar; and he determined that all should be settled before -he sighted American land. - -“If I ever get ashore again,” he remarked to Margaret, “I’m going to -the quietest, sleepiest country town I can find, and never set eyes on -a steamer or a railway train again as long as I live.” - -They were looking over the stern, where night had fallen on the -heaving swell. It had rained hard, but was clearing; an obscured moon -faintly lit the sea. - -“And do some sort of good work,” said Margaret. “You’ve got ability, -money, and every chance of a happy life.” - -“It’s in your hands,” Elliott declared, feeling his opportunity. - -“It’s not!” she cried, vehemently. “It’s in your own. You’re too -strong to depend on any one else for your life’s success. I don’t like -to hear that!” - -“Listen,” said Elliott. “You wouldn’t let me say this when you were -poor; perhaps you’ll hear it now when you are rich. I was going to -give up every cent of my share of the gold to try to please you—to do -what you thought was square. I’d have given up the whole ship-load—no, -that’s absurdly small, for there simply isn’t anything in the world, -past, present, or future, that I wouldn’t give up and call it a good -bargain if it would make you care for me a little. The best time I -ever had was when I was luckily able to help you, and now I could -almost find it in my heart to be sorry that you have all you need, and -don’t need me any more.” - -She touched his arm ever so gently, and he turned and looked squarely -at her. - -“Not need you!—you!” was all she said. - -The sudden throb of his heart made him gasp. The deck was full of -people, but he put his hand hard down upon hers as it lay on the rail, -and he felt her fingers curl up into his palm. - -“Be careful,” said she, with a new, subtle thrill in her voice. “Oh, -look!” - -From the clearing sky astern the moon was now pouring a full, glorious -flood upon the heaving Atlantic, where the heavy swell ran in -ivory-crested combers. In the pure white light the foam glittered with -prismatic colours, wave after wave, like a long broken rainbow fallen -upon the sea, and sparkling with the streaks of phosphorescence of the -steamer’s wake. - -“The rainbow road,” as Henninger calls it; “the treasure trail,” said -Elliott. “The trail’s ended.” - -But Margaret shook her head. “No,” she said. “The rainbow road has -just begun.” - - - THE END. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TREASURE TRAIL *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git "a/Projects/Web-Scraping/WebScraping03-Daniel-Cintr\303\263.py" "b/Projects/Web-Scraping/WebScraping03-Daniel-Cintr\303\263.py" new file mode 100644 index 000000000..4775de9e3 --- /dev/null +++ "b/Projects/Web-Scraping/WebScraping03-Daniel-Cintr\303\263.py" @@ -0,0 +1,9 @@ +import bs4 +exampleFile = open("example.html") +exampleSoup = bs4.BeautifulSoup(exampleFile.read(), "html.parser") +elems = exampleSoup.select("#author") +type(elems) +print(len(elems)) +type(elems[0]) +str(elems[0]) +print(elems[0].getText()) diff --git a/Projects/Web-Scraping/example.html b/example.html similarity index 100% rename from Projects/Web-Scraping/example.html rename to example.html From e73ed1010696d8f6460dbd2a79536fd5e8eb09ad Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Fri, 25 Mar 2022 14:55:25 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 48/50] =?UTF-8?q?Create=20Web-Scraping04-Daniel-Cintr?= =?UTF-8?q?=C3=B3n.py?= MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=UTF-8 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit --- .../Web-Scraping04-Daniel-Cintr\303\263n.py" | 10 ++++++++++ 1 file changed, 10 insertions(+) create mode 100644 "Projects/Web-Scraping/Web-Scraping04-Daniel-Cintr\303\263n.py" diff --git "a/Projects/Web-Scraping/Web-Scraping04-Daniel-Cintr\303\263n.py" "b/Projects/Web-Scraping/Web-Scraping04-Daniel-Cintr\303\263n.py" new file mode 100644 index 000000000..b05ab1f22 --- /dev/null +++ "b/Projects/Web-Scraping/Web-Scraping04-Daniel-Cintr\303\263n.py" @@ -0,0 +1,10 @@ +import requests +import bs4 +res = requests.get('https://www.sanignacio.pr/sobre-csi/historia-del-colegio') +res.raise_for_status() +SanIgnaciopr = bs4.BeautifulSoup(res.content, 'html.parser') +elems = SanIgnaciopr.select('p') +type(SanIgnaciopr) +print(len(elems)) +print(elems[2].getText()) +print(elems[3].getText()) \ No newline at end of file From 51f5ae5a0edd118daa581091fa45870eccc9cd3d Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: CSI-Daniel-Cintron <89158899+CSI-Daniel-Cintron@users.noreply.github.com> Date: Fri, 25 Mar 2022 14:55:28 -0400 Subject: [PATCH 49/50] =?UTF-8?q?Create=20Web-Scraping-Daniel-Cintr=C3=B3n?= =?UTF-8?q?.PNG?= MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=UTF-8 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit --- .../Web-Scraping-Daniel-Cintr\303\263n.PNG" | Bin 0 -> 29689 bytes 1 file changed, 0 insertions(+), 0 deletions(-) create mode 100644 "Projects/Web-Scraping/Web-Scraping-Daniel-Cintr\303\263n.PNG" diff --git "a/Projects/Web-Scraping/Web-Scraping-Daniel-Cintr\303\263n.PNG" 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b/Projects/Web-Scraping/import bs4.py @@ -0,0 +1,16 @@ +import requests +import bs4 + +website = requests.get("https://forecast.weather.gov/MapClick.php?lat=35.241460000000075&lon=-85.07328999999999#.Yks0hS3MLIU") +forecast = bs4.BeautifulSoup(website.content,"html.parser") +sevenDay = forecast.find(id="seven-day-forecast") +forecast_items = sevenDay.find_all(class_="tombstone-container") +tonight = forecast_items[1] +#print(tonight.prettify()) +period =tonight.find(class_="period-name").get_text() +print(period) +Short_desc =tonight.find(class_="short-desc").get_text() +print(Short_desc) +temp =tonight.find(class_="temp temp-low").get_text() +print(temp) +